Deep Into That Darkness Peering
by Gmariam
Summary: When his best friend is captured, James risks everything to find Sirius before it's too late. How far is he willing to go when his friends' lives are at stake—and who will rescue him when he is almost lost? As the Marauders struggle with the aftermath, each experiences the grim darkness of war—and each must somehow find their way to the light.
1. Captured

Captured

The room—if it could even be called such a place—was dark, dank, and cold. The walls were cut of lifeless stone and felt as if they were closing in on him more with each passing hour. There were no windows, no light, nothing except the hard rock, and the silence was complete. He may have been in a deep cellar beneath a crowded manor or an attic tower abandoned for years, he did not know. He only knew endless night and the constant chill of dead air.

He didn't mind the darkness as much as the cold. Even the tedious silence didn't bother him, really; he could almost hear his own heart beating at times, and he let it lull him to sleep every few hours, knowing he would need his strength to survive whatever happened the next time the door opened and his captors returned to torment him.

The cold, however, threatened to break him. At times he shivered so hard he thought his very bones would shatter from the force of his convulsions. His fingers were ice and could barely clutch the dirty blanket that had been thrown to him with his last piece of bread and water.

He thought about curling up in his Animagus form to conserve both energy and heat, but he was not ready to give up his secret quite yet. And the ragged gash running from behind his ear down across his neck and shoulder had sapped him of energy; his captors had barely cleaned it and set a loose bandage over it, refusing him even a basic healing spell. If he managed the change, he wasn't sure he would be able to return to his human form, and he did not wish to die like an animal.

The hours passed slowly, each a long, dark blur of suffocating cold and silence. How long he had been there, he had no idea. More than a day, less than a week. His memory was hazy, vague images stitched together by shadows: he remembered leaving the house in Haverleigh where he'd been on assignment after Gideon Prewett had arrived to relieve him. He had wandered toward the edge of the village for a breath of fresh air, alone. There was a sharp crack of Apparition as a masked Death Eater had stepped out from around a corner in front of him, four more appearing instantly behind him. He vaguely remembered taking out at least two assailants, but then he'd been hit hard, his wand spinning away from nerveless fingers, blood splattering across his face from the brutal slash across his neck. A second spell had sent him crashing to his knees, and the pain of the Cruciatus Curse coursing through his body was the last thing he remembered.

He awoke imprisoned, with no recollection of how he had got there or how long he had lain on the dirty floor, his wound scarcely tended and surely infected by now. His shoulder throbbed, at times burning with heat and yet at times so ice cold he was sure he would freeze to death, though it was only November and he was not yet even twenty.

It had probably been three days at least, based on his captor's schedule. By his best guess, they brought him bread and water every five or six hours. It was always a silent, masked assailant who appeared. They cast increasingly brutal curses, spells he had never seen let alone heard of. Yet they asked no questions, the tortuous visits only sapping his strength until it took effort to even sit upright. He refused to lose hope; instead he held fast to his anger, that they would do this to him, when he had no idea who they were or what they wanted, other than to inflict more pain and suffering. He grew determined to survive, just to spite them.

He clung, too, to the idea that someone would find him. Someone must be searching for him by now. Assuming he hadn't been killed as well, Gideon would have told the Order when he hadn't returned. His friends would stop at nothing to find him, because he would do the same for them: it was just a matter of time. He had to survive, had to keep his head clear and be ready to escape should the opportunity present itself. He had to live—for them, and for her.

The stone door of his prison cell rippled, and he shook himself from another restless sleep. He wanted to stand to face his captors, but he did not have the strength to do much more than hold his head up against the wall and stare defiantly at the dark shape that entered the room. A bit of bread was thrown in his lap, but no drink; he grinned, knowing it would infuriate his captors.

"What, fresh out of muddy water then? How will I choke down my gourmet meal without it?" He knew it would get him punished, but he didn't care. It was his only way of defying them now, with words. They had his wand, but not his voice, and he would throw whatever words he could at them to keep it.

An invisible backhand sent him sideways sprawling to the floor, his head hitting the cold stone hard. He took a deep breath and sat up again, casually stuffing a bit of bread into his dry mouth. He tasted blood with it; he must have bit his lip.

"You're a dirty blood traitor, you dog," hissed a voice from behind the mask. "It's all you deserve and all you'll get." It was the first time he had heard any of his captors speak, and he struggled to place the voice.

"Right on both accounts," he murmured, peering into the man's masked face, trying to see into his eyes. To his surprise, the Death Eater pulled back his mask and revealed the thick, bearded face of Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange smirked at him, lips curving into a cruel smile as he raised his wand.

"Hello, cousin. It's nice to see you again."

Before he could retort, Sirius was curling in upon himself once more as the Cruciatus Curse slammed into him. Waves of pain coursed through his chilled, weak body, and he clamped his teeth, refusing to let a single sound escape that would satisfy the man standing over him. He took it in, shutting his eyes to the agony, the only sign he felt anything at all.

"So it's true," murmured Lestrange, raising his wand and circling him. "You are the strong, silent type." He cast another curse, and Sirius convulsed once again, drawing more blood from his lips as he bit through them to keep the screams inside. When it stopped, he drew several long breaths before slowly sitting up and glaring at his cousin-by-marriage.

"Fuck you," he spat, blood hitting the ground at the man's feet. Lestrange merely raised an eyebrow.

"Such language for a pure-blood," he mock-reprimanded. "Although you're such a traitor you're barely recognizable as a pure-blood, yet alone a _Black_."

"Is that what this is about?" Sirius asked, willing himself not to wheeze as he struggled to catch his breath; something in his chest felt ripped and broken, probably a rib. "My family?"

"You're an embarrassment," Rodolphus replied, sounded disgusted. "You've dishonored and shamed your family. Regulus has earned a place of honor with the Dark Lord, yet you remain a blight on the family tree—a never-ending thorn in our side."

"I was blasted off years ago," Sirius protested, then nodded in understanding. "But apparently that's not permanent enough. Bella put you up to this."

Rodolphus snorted and kicked him, leaving what would certainly be a deep bruise on his thigh. The unexpected physical assault made him gasp in shock, and Lestrange laughed at him. "No, but she certainly supported it. This was my idea. "

"For being a blood traitor?" Sirius asked. "That's all?"

"No," Lestrange replied, inclining his head with an evil glint in his eye. "For defiling my sister as well. I know you saw her again."

Sirius was silent, willing himself not to give anything away. He instinctively knew he could not lie his way out of whatever they had planned for him. Lestrange was right: he had seen Arlienne, before he had met Gideon in Haverleigh for their assignment. No one knew, not even James. How had Rodolphus found out?

"So why not just kill me now and rid the world of my filthy presence?" he said instead. He wondered if that was indeed the plan; it seemed unlikely Lestrange would let him live now that he had revealed why he had taken him. Sirius had been attacked by the Lestranges once before for seeing Arlienne, barely escaping with his life in Diagon Alley almost two years earlier. Arlienne had been sent to France after that incident and had only recently returned. He had been desperate to see her; now he was wondering if that single tryst would cost him his life—or worse, hers. "You could literally solve both your problems with one spell."

"Oh, I will, for her," Lestrange replied, alarmingly casual as he paced before him once more. "But first I want to have a bit of fun—for what you did to my brother last month. You seem to have something against _my_ family as well as yours."

"For what I did to—" Sirius trailed off, straining to remember. It had been weeks ago, a small skirmish with Death Eaters outside Knockturn Alley, a quick and almost exhilarating fight that had ended with nothing more than a sore arm that a good bottle of Firewhiskey had set right. He remembered taking down a Death Eater with a particularly strong Hurling Hex, sending him crashing into a pile of rubbish bins. He never knew who it had been or how badly the man had been injured, for the Death Eaters had escaped, one of them Apparating out with their unconscious colleague. Apparently the injured man had been Rabastan Lestrange, and his brother was out for revenge.

"So what did he walk away with?" Sirius asked, summoning as much insolence as he could. "A bump on the head? A scratch on his arm? A nick to his pride?"

Lestrange kneeled before him, narrowing his eyes. "He walked away with a broken nose and a dirty scar from a jagged rubbish bin." He ran his index finger down Sirius's face almost tenderly. "Right about there." He jabbed his finger into the wound at his neck, and Sirius sucked in a breath as sparks of pain shot through him.

"Sod off," Sirius snapped, tearing his head away from the man's vile touch.

"I don't think so, Sirius," Rodolphus replied, his voice soft and low as he drew out the name almost seductively. "I think you need another lesson first." He examined his wand, grinning cruelly. "Don't disgrace your family, Black—or mine. Especially when they are both much, much stronger than you and your pathetic Order."

The wand was at his throat. Sirius stared hard at Rodolphus Lestrange, refusing to back down, knowing it was his one and only defense, his nerve. The curse hit him hard, though, and his last thought before losing consciousness was not of his family, or even Arlienne, but of his best friend, and how they had always planned to die together. . .

* * *

**End Notes:**

And so begins another chaptered story for the Marauders. If this story looks familiar, that is because I began posting it a year ago on MNFF, but took it down for personal reasons. I do hope to finish it this time, particularly as it is half-finished already

This story takes place about two years after another story I wrote, _Raindrops_. To fill in a bit of background: Arlienne Lestrange is the sister of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. Sirius started seeing her during his seventh year at Hogwarts, but when her family found out, he was attacked in Diagon Alley, and Arlienne was forced to transfer to Beauxbatons. It was a bit of a side plot in _Raindrops_ and wiggled its way as a side plot into this one as well. I hope you enjoy this story—it will be a somewhat dark, bumpy ride, as it does take place at a particularly dark time in the war. Please be aware of warnings for violence, profanity, character death, mental disorders, substance abuse, and sexual situations.

Thank you to lea/mugglegirlmaurader for helping me with this story. She is my muse and I appreciate her support!

Finally, reviews are love, because I have my doubts. :)


	2. Determined

Determined

The target moved quickly, darting from one corner of the room to the other, and James followed it with precision, determined to take it down once and for all. It could be a Death Eater someday, threatening his friends and family, and he knew that one wrong move, one second of hesitation, and all could be lost. While a part of him hated what he was becoming—a meticulous fighting machine—another part knew it was necessary, for the war was going badly. More and more pure-bloods were coming out in support of Voldemort, while the world grew darker for Muggles, Muggle-borns, and anyone who fought for them. The Order of the Phoenix was barely hanging on.

He channeled his frustration, his worry, and even his anger toward the small drone in front of him, charmed to duel at the highest level possible. While it could not replicate exactly the unpredictable thoughts and actions of a true witch or wizard, it could still help hone his own reflexes and responses. It took him only a few quick spells to stop the target, and James let his guard down, the adrenaline rush flowing from his body as quickly as it had come.

"Not bad," murmured a voice behind him. Remus appeared in the doorway, removing his cloak with a weary look on his face. "I'd hate to run into you in a dark alley."

James grinned, but it was tinged with bitterness. How many dark alleys had he already fought in? How long would he have to rely on his dueling skills to protect both himself and his friends before he ended up dead in that alley? It had been over a year since he had joined the Order, and he was beginning to grow weary of the constant call to battle. They seemed to lose ground more and more, or at least end at a draw, with both sides retreating until the next skirmish. It had been exciting at first, but constant defeat wore him down, and marriage was slowly changing him, young as he was: he wanted the war to be over, so he could just be with his wife and start a family sooner rather than later, in a world where it would be safe for his children.

"Care to have a go then?" he asked his friend, craving human interaction. He'd been stuck at headquarters all day, standing guard and ready to relay messages. It had become habit to practice on duty, to keep himself both in shape and from falling into boredom and despair. He didn't really want to fight Remus, but sometimes he didn't want to talk, he just wanted to act, and this was one of those times.

Only Remus shook his head, and James noticed the worried pinch to his friend's eyes. The full moon was that night and Remus always grew tired and peaky, but this was something more. James waved his wand at the target and pocketed it, giving Remus his full attention.

"What's wrong?" he said, coming straight to the point. They were well past wasting time with vague pleasantries, and James knew Remus had been on assignment in Hogsmeade. He would only return to headquarters with an urgent message, which usually meant trouble.

"It's Sirius," Remus said running his hands through his hair and leaving it uncharacteristically rumpled.

James felt his chest constrict. "Not—" He couldn't say it: it was what they all worried about every time one of them went out.

Remus blew out a breath. "No, not dead. Bloody hell, I need something to eat, I haven't had anything since yesterday."

Although he was impatient to hear his friend's news, they left the back room and went out to the kitchen, which to James's surprise, was not empty: Aberforth Dumbledore was sitting at the table with Jack McKinnon, a small package on the bench beside him. James nodded at Aberforth, still slightly uncomfortable in the odd man's presence given how infrequently he left the Hog's Head for Order business, and shook hands with Jack.

"I didn't hear you come in," he offered in greeting as he moved toward the cupboard and pulled out two bottles of Steaming Stout. It was the strongest drink Dumbledore allowed them at headquarters. Remus helped himself to whatever he could find to eat and sat down next to Aberforth.

"You were busy, we didn't want to disturb you," Jack replied. "But you're relieved. It's my turn to tend the fire."

James opened the bottles of stout and joined him. "Good, I need to get out of here."

Aberforth Dumbledore raised an eyebrow "You've had word about something, haven't you?" he asked. James flashed Remus a look; Aberforth crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them. "What is it, then?" he demanded before James could do the same. "We've no secrets here, and I don't like this place much to wait on you. I've got what I came for and need to be getting on, so out with it."

"No one has heard from Sirius since last night," said Remus. "He was with Gideon in Haverleigh. They'd had word that Benjy's family was being targeted."

Aberforth nodded impatiently. "Pettigrew picked that bit up, if I recall correctly."

"He did, last time he sat the Hag's Rest," said Remus. "Guess who they saw skulking around the village where the Fenwicks live?"

James could think of any number of Death Eaters or suspected sympathizers and shook his head, too edgy to play guessing games.

"The Averys." Remus paused to let it sink in, no doubt knowing that James would need a moment to curse. And he did—he swore vehemently under his breath. Pietro Avery had attacked James twice before he had even left Hogwarts. Avery had gone to Azkaban the second time, but his family name and connections had got him out. He had been more careful since, but remained a thorn in the Order's side with a number of other active Death Eaters, including his brother Dante, and Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange.

It had also been Pietro Avery who had hit Lily with a Sleeping Curse during their seventh year, and James had carried that bitter memory with him ever since. He had battled Avery and his brother Dante several times since, hoping to defeat them, but they always managed to escape—another draw. If Avery was behind anything that had happened to Sirius, James was determined to see that change once and for all.

"What happened?" he demanded, shaking himself out of the past.

"Sirius left Gideon on guard last night. He said he would be back in the morning, but he never returned. Apparently Gideon found signs of a struggle outside the village this morning. No one has heard from Sirius." He paused for another pull. "Gideon thinks he was taken."

James stared at his friend, confused and terrified at the same time. While it was rare to not hear from Sirius on a regular basis, two or even three days was not that unusual, not when they all had their own assignments for the Order that sometimes separated them for weeks. "How does he know for sure?" he asked. "Maybe it was someone else, or maybe he's gone off somewhere following a lead…" He trailed off at the dark look on Remus's face.

"You didn't say why Prewett thinks he was kidnapped, Lupin," Aberforth Dumbledore cut in before James could ask. "Care to tell us the rest of the story?"

"There's not much else to tell." Remus sighed and pushed his food away after taking just a few bites. "Gideon tracked down a witness who saw what happened. Sirius was hit pretty bad and taken away by five Death Eaters."

"Dead or alive?" asked Jack McKinnon. James's head shot up.

"He's alive until I see otherwise." He stood and began pacing. "So what's the plan?"

Remus finished his drink and leaned back. "I don't know. Dumbledore is looking into it. Fabian is on duty in Haverleigh tonight. But I'm barely standing, if that's what you're thinking. I was out all night on assignment in Hogsmeade, and of course tonight won't be much better…" He closed his eyes and leaned back as he trailed off, obviously exhausted. James knew the full moon would take even more of a toll on his friend.

"Have you seen Pete yet?" asked James. He thought Peter was probably working at the apothecary, but he wasn't sure. Remus shook his head.

"I came straight here as soon as Dumbledore told me. What are we going to do?"

Aberforth snorted. "You're going to wait until Albus tells you what to do, that's what. Don't go running off on some damn fool rescue mission until you know everything that he knows." He stood to leave, taking up his package. "Otherwise you'll end up in worse trouble yourself."

Without another word, he left the kitchen, returning to his dingy pub for the dinner crowd and whatever information he could gleam from behind the bar. James watched him go, idly wondering at the stark difference between Aberforth and his brother, then ran a hand through his hair as he turned back to Remus. "You know he's wrong," he started.

"And yet he's right," finished Remus, his eyes still closed. "I can't go. Not tonight. You know I can't."

"I know," James murmured. "But I can go. I've fought these guys before."

"We all have," said Jack, watching him very seriously. James waved him off. "They're brutal, James."

"I know. But I can handle Avery. I _have _to—it's Sirius we're talking about."

"What about Peter?" asked Remus. He sat up and looked pointedly at James, his grey eyes piercing. "He should know."

"Tell him, then. But he's not cut out for search and rescue. You know he's not."

Remus nodded reluctantly, because it was true: Peter was good behind the scenes, ferreting out information by simply listening in the background. He was the one who was usually sent into the shops and pubs, the nondescript listener in the corner whose sharp hearing picked up on everything and fed it to Dumbledore, who then plucked the patterns and plans from the babble and somehow kept their fledgling Order barely alive. Peter was not the one to march into battle, or even sneak into battle; that was James and Sirius. And since one of them was missing, it was up to the other to find him. He turned to Jack.

"I won't even ask—" he started.

"I'd sign up in a heartbeat—on Dumbledore's orders." He stood and gave them a sympathetic look. "Until then, I'm here for the rest of the night, and then I'm heading home to see Marlene and the girls. It's been a long, hard week—as usual." He nodded at them both and turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway. "That doesn't mean Gideon wouldn't be willing, so long as Fabian has the Fenwicks."

James nodded thoughtfully at Jack's back as he left. Jack McKinnon was a good man, strong and loyal and utterly dependable. He did not, however, have that same streak of rule-breaking that sometimes still followed James and Sirius since leaving school. Jack's first priority was his family, and James understood that perfectly. Yet for him, Sirius _was_ family, and he would do anything for his best friend.

"What are you going to do?" asked Remus wearily from the table. His eyes were closed once more, and James knew Remus would need to leave soon, before he became dangerous. They no longer roamed the woods in their Animagus forms during the full moon; instead, one of them would magically lock their friend behind closed doors, releasing him in the morning after a long, difficult night alone. It was hard, when they had spent three glorious years roaming the Forbidden Forest, free of restraint. And yet they knew they could never go back to that place. As teenagers, they had ignored and mocked the danger; as adults, they understood it all too well.

James didn't answer because he wasn't sure yet. Instead, he finished his drink and set it in the rubbish bin. "Let's go before you collapse. I'll get you settled before I do anything."

Remus stood, cleaned up after himself, and followed James toward the door. Jack McKinnon was sitting on the sofa writing and nodded knowingly at them as they gathered their cloaks and left the small flat in Diagon Alley that served as their central meeting place. As they stepped into the cold autumn air, Remus breathed deep and gave James a questioning look.

"You'll tell Lily, whatever you do." It wasn't a question so much as a statement. James stopped and stared up at the clear, cold sky. Lily was still at work, training at St. Mungo's even as she did double duty with the Order. How she managed it some days, he hardly knew. Her increasing skills as a Healer, however, were growing more and more useful, and she was a strong fighter on top of it.

"Yes, I'll tell her," he finally replied. "She can check on you in the morning."

In truth, he had no intention of telling her that Sirius was being held prisoner and quite possibly being tortured to death. Her and Sirius sometimes drove one another mad with bickering—James long suspected that Lily had simply transferred her verbal sparring skills to the one of them she wasn't sleeping with—but James knew that deep down she cared about his best friend as much as he did and would understand just how important it was to find Sirius.

Yet while he had gone on several missions with her for the Order, this one was his alone. He would not risk her life on such a dangerous operation, especially one he would be undertaking without Dumbledore's approval. James had long harbored ill feelings toward the Avery brothers, and he had little doubt that they were tangled up in whatever had happened to Sirius. And if, as he somehow suspected, the Lestranges were involved as well, it would be even more dangerous. He was anxious to fight them, but would not put Lily in the position of having to fight beside him when it was so personal.

"You're a good friend, Prongs," Remus murmured. "You'll find him. You know where I'll be tomorrow if you need me—or rather, _when_ you need me."

James put his arm around Remus's shoulder, a quiet smile the only acknowledgement of his friend's small joke. "I know. It'll be fine. I'll find him."

"Of course you will." Remus nodded. "Just don't lose yourself."

James thought about what that might mean as he turned and Apparated to the small house where Remus now lived. Hopefully, it did not mean what he feared most.

* * *

Back in his own home several hours later, James heard a sound and raised his head to stare groggily at the door as he grabbed for his wand. He rummaged around for his glasses with his other hand and sat up straighter, stretching his neck and trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. He'd fallen asleep at the table waiting for Lily to get off her shift at St. Mungo's, and as he squinted at the clock over the sink, he saw that she was late—several hours late. He'd meant to tell her he was leaving and be well on his way by then, only now it was close to midnight.

His wife looked weary as she came through the door, stumbling slightly as she entered the kitchen in the dark, swearing as she walked into a chair. James was fairly sure he heard a sniff and immediately brought up the lights.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dreading the answer after he had asked Remus the same question earlier.

She gasped in surprise, her wand up almost instantly. He couldn't help but grin bitterly at the reflexes the war had bred in them all. At the same time, he rose and enveloped her in an embrace, and she melted into his arms as if she could barely hold herself upright anymore.

He kissed the top of her head and helped her out of her cloak. "What happened?" he asked again. And then, though it seemed incongruous and almost insensitive, "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head and took his hand, leading him from the kitchen toward the bedroom in the front of the house. "No, I'm too exhausted to eat. It's been a horrible night."

"Lily, what happened?" he asked again. He was suddenly overwhelmed by thoughts of Sirius: had he been found, had he been brought to St. Mungo's, had he died? All while James was asleep, waiting for his wife before he set out after his best friend? He swallowed his guilt as they entered the bedroom.

"You haven't heard?" she asked wearily, letting her clothes fall to the floor around her. She pulled on a simple cotton nightshirt and let her hair down.

"I've been here since I left Remus—apparently I fell asleep at the table," he admitted a bit sheepishly. "I was waiting for you."

"I know, I'm sorry," she murmured, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. They pulled back the covers and sat against the pillows, fingers entwined, James's heart racing because surely something terrible had happened.

"Tell me," he implored.

"It's the Fenwicks," she whispered, and he saw tears she had probably cried already start to fall once more.

"Benjy?" James whispered back, unable to believe that they might have lost a member of their small group. "Dead?"

"No, not Benjy," she replied. "His brother. The whole family was killed in Haverleigh."

"In Haverleigh…"James trailed off, stunned. That was where Sirius had been, trying to head off that very same tragic ending. Was that why he had been attacked and taken? Because he'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time—had been in the way? James was suddenly aware of the very real possibility that Sirius might be dead as well.

"What happened?" he finally croaked. "Tell me what happened."

"Fabian Prewett was there, guarding them. He sent for help, but it was over too fast. He was hurt pretty bad. Gideon is beside himself for not getting there in time."

"Who was it?" asked James. He needed to know.

"I don't know. Gideon didn't see, and Fabian was still unconscious when I left. Benjy brought his brother in, but he didn't make it." Lily looked away, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I saw him die, James. I watched his life end because there was nothing we could do. He'd been worked over too badly. Apparently his wife and daughter died at the house, right in front of him. Maybe he didn't want to live." She turned back to him, her face crumpling, her voice breaking. "They attacked the whole family, and Benjy found them like that, dead and dying. I can't imagine how he must feel…"

James wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She sobbed into his shoulder, and he felt his own eyes prick with tears, but he didn't let them fall. Not yet. He was even more determined now, to set out as soon as he could to find Sirius, dead or alive. And he suspected he'd have a ready and willing—not to mention equally angry—companion in Gideon Prewett. He just needed to start, and yet he couldn't leave. Not now.

Eventually the storm passed, and Lily pulled back, wiping her eyes with a rueful smile. "I'm training to be a Healer, and yet here I am a bloody mess over something that happens every day."

"You're upset because it was someone close to you," James murmured, stroking her hair as they lay back against the pillows.

"I didn't even know them," she replied. "But the look on Benjy's face, on Gideon's face. One so devastated, the other so angry. It was awful." James found himself tense, because he understood that anger all too well, and he knew she would not. At that moment she only felt sorrow. He might have told her about Sirius, at first, but now he couldn't. He would have to tell her something else.

"We should sleep," he finally said. "I have to be in Hogsmeade before morning."

She turned and frowned up at him. "What for? Have you heard something?"

He decided to give her half the truth, because he couldn't bring himself to lie to her so completely. "I'm following a lead, since Remus won't be up to it. I shouldn't really say more."

To his relief, she was not in one of her more stubborn moods and accepted his vague response. In some ways it was true, after all, and there were those rare times when they kept secrets from one another, though they always shared them in the end. He felt his guilt compound, that he was keeping something so important from her, and closed his eyes against it, hoping he could make it up to her when he returned…if he returned.

He felt Lily snuggle into his side and put his arm around her. She responded by burrowing her face into his neck, then slowly wrapping one leg around his as her right hand began to trace circles across his chest. He felt his breath catch as she kissed his neck, then his collarbone, then pulled his face to hers and fiercely took his lips in a deep and passionate kiss. He knew immediately what she wanted, what she needed, and though it felt almost sacrilegious in light of so much death that night, he needed it too: the affirmation of life, the feeling that there was something worth living for when sometimes it was hard to keep hope alive.

He threw his worries to the wind and pulled her on top of him. With one fluid motion she tugged off her nightshirt and leaned down to kiss him, her hair falling about him as he ran his hands down her cool back. She quickly divested him of his own clothing, and they explored one another as if it were the first time and the last, the tragedy of the day disappearing into whispered declarations of love and exclamations of intense desire as they came together.

When they had finished, he held her tight, and she fell asleep in his arms. He did not close his eyes; instead, he planned his course carefully, determined to return to the remarkable woman he had pledged to spend the rest of his life with, no matter the cost.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Thank you to lea/mugglegirlmarauder for her help and encouragement! Thank you for your reads and reviews! If you have any questions as this goes along, I certainly will answer them because writers always love to talk about their stories, and this one is a strangely important one to me. :)


	3. Discovered

Discovered

It wasn't the sunlight that woke her, streaming through the cracks in the curtains; nor was it the insistent birds outside the window, ringing in the new day from the small nest nearby that Lily had discovered several months ago. It was the cold feeling of rolling over to find the bed empty next to her, the blankets pulled up to the pillows, but no warm body underneath. James had left, just as he said he would. He had gone without waking her, and she wasn't sure whether she appreciated his consideration in granting her the extra rest she needed, or if she was furious with him for leaving without telling her.

Of course, he had probably kissed her goodbye, and she might have even mumbled something back, but she did not remember, and she wished she did. She had sensed something different in him last night, some deeper anxiety moving in him. She knew better than to question whatever assignment he'd been given, though; he would tell her in his own time, and she had honestly been too exhausted to ask. She would not have been able to process any more bad news last night.

But now it was morning, and the bed was empty, and Lily suddenly had to know that James was all right.

She pulled herself from bed, alarmed to see just how late it was. She had promised James she would go to Remus that morning, and she hated leaving their friend waiting after a long, hard night. But she needed a hot shower and a cup of tea, so she quickly cleaned up, threw some tea and her favorite kettle into her bag, and Apparated to Remus's place as fast as she could.

He had chosen a small house in a sleepy village not far from where he had grown up. It was isolated enough that he enjoyed his privacy during the full moon, but close enough to his family's house that he felt safe. At least, that was what Lily suspected lay behind his reasons for choosing the location, when he could have lived closer to his friends. It was a cozy house, with just one bedroom, bathroom, and living room, but it had a cellar that James and the others had helped to enlarge for Remus's transformations. Every month they magically sealed it so that Remus was locked safely inside. When they could, sometimes they stayed. It was painful for Remus, but it protected everyone else around him.

Arriving discreetly on the back step, Lily let herself inside and called for Remus. When she did not hear any response, she moved toward the cellar and carefully undid the series of magical locks James and Sirius had configured to keep Remus inside. Her heart ached as she thought about him pent up like a criminal for something he had played no part it. She almost dreaded how she would find him when she entered the cellar.

"Remus?" she called once more, giving him a chance to make himself decent if he needed to. She cast a light into the room and found him sleeping on a simple bed in the corner. He was curled up under a sheet, the blankets having fallen to the floor. He was shivering, and Lily moved quickly to cover him. She noticed a large scratch down his arm, and her Healer's instinct wanted to tend it, but she did not want to disturb his rest, not when it came at such a high price. So she conjured a second blanket to warm him and a bandage that she left on his bedside table, then brushed the hair from his haggard face before turning to leave.

"I'm awake now," murmured a voice behind her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Lily, turning back. "Although I'm sorry I woke you. I know you need your rest."

He struggled to sit, and Lily hurried to help him. She tended his cut and helped him up the stairs when he insisted on leaving the cold cellar.

"I'd rather rest in my own bed now that I'm up," he said, sounding exhausted as he sat down at a small table in the even smaller kitchen. "But perhaps a cup of tea first. I believe I heard a tea kettle rattling around in your bag."

"How did you hear that?" Lily laughed. She pulled out her kettle and set about starting the water. "And where are your cups again?"

He pointed to a cabinet on her left. "You're lucky I have two. I used to keep just one."

"And who's the second one for?" she teased, setting them on the table.

"Friends like you," he replied. He was quiet for a moment, until he gave her a very serious look. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course," she said. She was silent as they waited for the kettle to whistle, then poured them each a mug of water and set the tea to steep. "James couldn't be here, so I'm happy to help." She meant it as an opening, because she had every intention of finding out whatever Remus might know.

He wrapped his hands around the warm mug. "Have you heard from him?"

Lily shook her head and sat across from him. "He just left this morning." She saw a look of surprise flit across Remus's face, confirming her suspicion that he knew more than James had told her. "He didn't say much, though…and I'm worried."

Remus was silent once more; he didn't even meet her eyes. "Please, Remus, will he be all right? He seemed different last night, and so do you." He glanced up in surprise. "You look worried. And where is Sirius? Why isn't he here?'

Remus sighed, and in spite of his obvious exhaustion, he stood and moved toward the sink, staring out the tiny window as he sipped his tea. "I shouldn't say anything," he finally offered over his shoulder. "James should have told you."

"He didn't," Lily said. "He told me he was following a lead in Hogsmeade and left without a word this morning. Is it bad?"

Remus turned to her with a sigh. "Very likely."

"Then tell me!" she implored. "Please, Remus. I have to know."

"Sirius is in trouble," Remus said softly.

"What? I don't understand." She felt a cold fear take hold of her, though, and she understood why James had been reluctant to tell her.

Remus joined her at the table and took her hand. "He was captured. He was in Haverleigh on duty with Gideon Prewett."

Lily gasped in shock. "In Haverleigh? But that's where Benjy Fenwick's brother was!" she exclaimed. Remus picked up on her grammatical phrasing immediately.

"_Was_?" he asked sharply. "Has something happened to him?"

"He was killed last night," she whispered. "Alan, his wife, his daughter—all of the them. Fabian Prewett was hurt in the attack. I tended him at St. Mungo's last night when Gideon brought him in."

Remus let his head fall into his hands. "Dear god," he murmured. "When will it end?"

"Where is Sirius, Remus? Did James go after him?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Gideon said Pietro Avery was skulking around the village. A witness saw Sirius attacked by five Death Eaters. It seems certain Avery was one—and I'm betting the Lestranges were involved as well."

"And James went after him?" Remus nodded. "Does Dumbledore know?" When Remus shook his head, Lily stood up to pace, leaving her tea forgotten on the table.

"Where?" she asked. "And did he go alone?"

"I don't know where he's gone. He'd probably have to track down some information first in order to find out where Sirius is being held." Remus shook his head. "And my guess would be he's not alone—I'm sure he had no hard time convincing Gideon to go with him, especially after what you've told me."

"We've got to go after them," she said, facing him resolutely. "We have to."

"We don't even know where they are." Remus sighed. "We'd just get in more trouble, which is exactly what Aberforth told James yesterday."

"We can't just sit here!"

Remus stood and reached out to her, pulling her into an embrace. She resisted at first, then let herself sink into his arms, too worried to care. "I can't just leave him out there alone," she whispered into his shoulder.

"We have to wait," said Remus. "We wait to hear from them, or we wait until they don't come back, and then we'll track them down and find them. I promise." He pulled back and gazed down into her eyes. "But right now I'm good for nothing. I have to rest, in case they need us."

Lily nodded and stepped away. "Of course. I'm sorry. I'll go."

"You'll go where?" he asked pointedly, walking her to the door.

"St. Mungo's," she replied reluctantly. "I'm not supposed to go in until this afternoon, but I can't sit around waiting and worrying. I'll see how Fabian is doing."

Remus nodded. "Good. And I imagine you'll pick his brain a bit as well. I'll come by this evening to see you both. Let me know if you hear anything before then."

She embraced him once more. "Thank you, Remus. You too. Get some rest."

He smiled bitterly. "I will. I have a feeling I'll need it before too long."

Lily left the tiny house and stood for a moment gazing at the countryside around her. Remus had confirmed her suspicion that there was more going on than James had let on. He had calmed her impulse to run after James, but he had not taken away her deep fear and worry, that last night might have been the last time she would see her husband.

* * *

Several hours later, Lily sat with Fabian Prewett, once again sipping a cup of tea as Fabian tore through his first proper meal since awakening that afternoon. It had been a quiet day at the hospital, for which everyone was glad. The traumatic events of the night before had been enough for all of them who'd been there. Though Lily did not know Fabian particularly well, she had worked with him long enough in the Order to sit with him and keep him company during her break.

She also hoped to glean some information from him, yet he was hardly coming up for air as he emptied his plate faster than just about anyone she'd seen come through St. Mungo's. The hospital wasn't particularly known for its stellar food, but she supposed that anything would do when one had been injured as badly as Fabian had.

"Where's Gideon?" Fabian finally asked, rousing Lily from staring idly out the window. "He's all right, yeah? I remember him bringing me in."

"Yes, he was here," Lily said. "In fact, he was still here when I left last night, but I'm sure he's fine." She didn't try to hide the uncertainty in her voice, though, and Fabian picked up on it immediately.

"You know something," he stated, setting down his fork. "Tell me."

"I was hoping you could tell me more," Lily countered. "About what happened in Haverleigh."

Fabian's face clouded as he leaned back against his pillows. "There's not much to tell. It was over so fast. Six Death Eaters Apparated right next to the house and took down the wards almost instantly. I cast a Patronus and rushed out to help, but they were already inside. I could hear screaming."

He closed his eyes before continuing. "I ran in, but Alan had already been hit, and there was blood everywhere. Martha was in front of her daughter, her wand raised. I took down one Death Eater, but I was hit hard from behind and lost my wand. I saw Martha fall and tried so hard to stop them from getting Jenny, but I couldn't. Someone smashed my hand before I could crawl to my wand." He held up his bandaged hand with a bitter grimace. "Gideon and Benjy burst in then, but it was too late. They got one more before the rest of the bastards Apparated away. It was as quick as that, and more devastating than anything I've ever seen."

Lily reached out for his good hand and squeezed tight. He looked away, brushing at his eyes, and they sat in silence for a moment, remembering the dead.

"Is that what you wanted to know?" he asked wearily. "Because that's all I can tell you. I don't remember much after that, other than arriving here."

She nodded. "Yes, Gideon brought you in, and Benjy brought Alan, but it was too late to save him. I'm so sorry." He nodded, obviously at a loss for words. She tried to sound casual with her next question. "Was Sirius in Haverleigh, too?"

Fabian frowned, scratching at the bandage on his hands. "Yes, but not last night. Actually, I went down yesterday because Gideon said Sirius was missing. He was worried something had happened and came up to see Dumbledore." He stopped and stared at Lily. "Did something happen to him?"

"Yes." Lily sighed. "We think Sirius has been taken. James has gone after him—and I wouldn't be surprised if he took Gideon with him."

Fabian gave a low whistle. "Yes, after what went down with Benjy's family, I'm sure Gideon would be itching for action. Do we think it was the same people who hit the Fenwicks?"

Lily thought about it. Sirius had been in Haverleigh to protect the Fenwicks. He'd been attacked and likely taken prisoner. The next day the family was murdered. Had he been taken to merely get him out of the way, or was there something else behind it? Given what Remus had told her about Pietro Avery, Lily strongly suspected there was more, and that his capture had simply opened up the attack on the Fenwicks.

"I don't know," she finally replied. "But I'm worried."

Fabian nodded. "They're good, though—James and Gideon. If anyone can find Sirius, they can. And you know Black can hold his own. What did Lupin say?"

She glanced at him in surprise, and he laughed. "I can't imagine he doesn't know, knowing how tight they are. You didn't mention him going along, probably because there was a full moon last night. I remember seeing it as I rushed in. So what did he say?"

"Remus said we should wait until we hear from them, or until it's been too long to wait any longer."

Fabian closed his eyes. "And he probably needs to recover, just like I do. Does Dumbledore know?"

"No," said Lily.

"Know what?" growled a voice behind them. Lily froze, staring wide-eyed at Fabian, who simply shrugged as she turned to face the gruff man behind her. It was not Dumbledore, but Alastor Moody, the grizzled Auror who had lost an eye fighting the Dark Arts.

"We're just talking about what happened in Haverleigh," Fabian replied evenly.

"We lost a damn good family, that's what," snapped Moody. "And it's not your fault, so don't go wibbling on me, Prewett. You did the best you could, but they knew exactly what they were doing, and that's why I'm here: so we can stop them next time."

Fabian nodded, but Lily saw the misery written across his face. "I know. It doesn't make it any better, though."

"Tell me what you told Evans, then," said Moody, pulling up a chair and straddling it. "So we can make sure it doesn't happen again."

Lily half-listened as Fabian recounted his story for Moody. She let her mind wander, thoughts of James and Gideon and Sirius clouding her thoughts. Moody grilled Fabian about whatever strange new spell the Death Eaters had used to bring down the wards on the Fenwick house. Moody had set them himself, and he was incensed to know they were no longer effective.

"I'll talk with Dumbledore, maybe he has some idea of what it was. We'll have to come up with new wards as well. Anything else? Did you see who they were?"

"They were masked," said Fabian, but he hesitated. Moody jumped on him immediately.

"Spit it out, Prewett. Secrets don't save lives, they ruin them."

Fabian nodded. "Gideon said Pietro Avery was in the village. When he and Sirius were guarding the house."

"And where's Black?" asked Moody with a frown and a snort. "Not off in some pub staring at someone's tits, I hope."

Lily's head snapped up at the mention of Sirius, and she felt her temper flare slightly to think that Sirius could be bound and tortured at that very moment, while Moody was making light and accusing him of drinking himself sick. She almost opened her mouth, but Fabian gave her a warning look. And of course, Moody picked up on it; he was known as the best Auror in decades for a reason, after all.

"So that's what Dumbledore doesn't know, then?" he asked. "Have we lost Black, too?"

Fabian shook his head. "It's not like that," he said. "Sirius is missing, yes, but Gideon told Dumbledore yesterday, he knows."

Moody narrowed his eyes and stood. "I hadn't heard yet." He began to pace the room before stopping abruptly and piercing Lily with his magical eye. "Did you know his girl was back in the country?" he demanded.

Lily felt her mouth fall open dumbly. "His girl? What are you talking about?" Before she had even finished asking, though, she thought she knew what he was talking about, and her heart froze in her chest. "You don't mean…"

"I do," the Auror snapped. "Returned about a fortnight ago. Maybe he's off having a good shag, and you're all worried for nothing."

Fabian frowned, obviously ignorant of Sirius's past with Arlienne Lestrange. Lily filled him in quickly and quietly, but Fabian shook his head.

"No, he's not," he said, his voice firm. "You might not think much of him, Moody, but he's a good man. He's not going to go running off with a girl and not tell someone. And Gideon not only found signs of a struggle, but a witness who said Sirius was attacked, bound, and taken."

Moody stopped and stared. "Taken?" he asked, his voice low. "Taken prisoner? By whom?"

"Death Eaters, the night before the attack." Fabian trailed off as he abruptly made the connection. "Bollocks."

"Bollocks doesn't begin to cover it, Prewett," Moody snapped. "That's no coincidence. He might have been removed to get to the Fenwicks, but why wait then? And why not take out you and Gideon, too?"

"It is the girl," murmured Fabian, nodding in understanding.

"What are you talking about?" Lily demanded. "What's going on?"

"You don't see it, Evans?" barked Moody. "The Lestrange girl returns from France and Black goes missing days later. You know the Averys lick the boots of the Lestrange family. Put it together."

"It's personal," she breathed.

"Of course it is!" he snapped. "I bet they were thrilled when they realized Black was in Haverleigh, and they could have him so easily. It probably had nothing to do with the Fenwicks, he was just a bonus."

"Does that mean You-Know-Who might not know?" asked Fabian. Lily wondered if that could buy Sirius time enough for James to get to him, and she held her breath waiting for the answer.

"Doesn't matter," said Moody. "The Lestranges are insane enough as it is. If Sirius picked up with her again, they are not going to let it go. I know what happened last time, Dumbledore filled me in. We need to go after him."

Lily shared another look with Fabian, who shook his head as if he no longer knew what to do. The conversation was moving too fast. Moody pinned her again. "Out with it Evans," he growled. "Is this where I walked in?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

"And let me guess—your damn fool of a husband has gone after him already?" She nodded again, and Moody swore, far more vehemently than Fabian. "Without telling Dumbledore, of course. Bloody idiot!" He stormed toward the door. "I'm going to Hogwarts. Prewett, I want you out of that bed in an hour and I don't care what still hurts. Evans, you're with me too. Get Lupin."

"Why?" they asked in unison.

Moody snorted. "We're going to rescue the rescue mission, of course. One hour."

He left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Lily stared after him, too stunned to say anything. She finally turned to give Fabian a wide-eyed look, and he raised his eyebrows in return.

"Better than sitting around here all night," he said, but his voice was not light. He sat up straighter. "Got any potions that'll hold me together for another fight?"

She nodded slowly and out of instinct began to gather what they might need should they come upon a bad scene. She only hoped they weren't too late; she wasn't sure she could handle any more death and destruction.

* * *

End Notes:

Thank you, lea/mugglegirlmarauder!


	4. Found

Found

It had taken some thinking and planning and unfortunate actions on their part, but James told himself that everything they had done had necessary. It was for his best friend. A Death Eater was just an ignorant, spineless wizard who longed to return to a long-gone era of dominance and suppression. They were intolerant, bigoted, and cruel, and they didn't deserve any kind of respect, kindness, or mercy. He shouldn't feel bad about what they had done.

And yet he did.

They had tracked down a man Peter had often mentioned from the Hag's Rest, a Death Eater sympathizer who worked at the bar. He was a bit like Aberforth Dumbledore, seeing and hearing everything and passing it on. Pete had once said the old man was not above selling his information to the highest bidder; a man like that didn't deserve mercy, did he?

They had woken him just before dawn, demanding answers to their rapid fire questions, even offering money. He had refused. James was only glad they had not forced the information from him with the Imperius Curse, or worse. Instead, Gideon had pulled out a vial of Veritaserum that he had forced down the man's throat; where Gideon had got it, James didn't ask. Sometimes a man had to use whatever weapons were at his disposal, no matter how unpleasant.

Just as they had suspected, the barman had known all about the attack on the Fenwick family—and Sirius Black. He had indeed been taken by Pietro Avery, and then handed over to Rodolphus Lestrange, who intended to 'play' with him a bit before killing him. He was being held at Lestrange Hall in Dartmoor, a large imposing mansion in the countryside, surrounded by rolling hills and fields of heather and protected by strong magic. Even with the information they pulled from him with the potion, it would be difficult to breach.

They had left the man asleep after Obliviating him. Again James had cringed at tampering with the man's memory, but they couldn't leave behind the footprint of their visit. He would simply wake up later that afternoon with a headache and sour stomach and think he had been drinking too much. He had given them enough information to get started, however, and they had Apparated to Dartmoor as quickly as possible, making their way toward the mansion under Disillusionment Charms.

James felt the wards ten feet from the protective walls of the estate. He stood on a nearby hill with Gideon, pondering how they could possibly get inside without alerting the entire household. He wondered if they should wait until dark; though he feared for Sirius's life, he knew two men could not take an entire house of Death Eaters in the middle of the day, and darkness could be their ally. He was not on a suicide mission, after all; he was on a rescue mission.

"We should watch a bit, wait until dark, at least," Gideon murmured, confirming James's reluctant thoughts. "We'll do no good crashing in during the middle of afternoon tea."

James nodded reluctantly and lowered himself to the ground. He leaned against a small tree, trying to think of some way onto the grounds that wouldn't set off the wards. He could only think of one.

"Do you suppose the wards work against animals?" he asked softly. Gideon looked at him in surprise.

"Not sure. They might, but probably not, given the number of small animals that roam the moors. There would be a pile of dead carcasses at the perimeter, unless they'd learned to avoid the place."

James did not see any such evidence; in fact, as he gazed around the grounds, he saw movement in the grass—ducks swimming in a small pond to the south, squirrels racing amongst the trees dotting the landscape, a lone fox darting under a bush. He would guess there were deer in the woods behind the house. So he might be able to get inside, but how to get Gideon in? And what then?

They sat and watched the house, concealed under their Disillusionment Charms, but there was little activity to note until the sun began to set. Several robed figures strode up to the gates; one touched his wand to the metal, and together they walked through. He turned briefly, and James saw his face: Pietro Avery, the Death Eater James had tangled with so many times already. He was now fairly certain Avery had attacked Sirius in Haverleigh, and he had every intention of making the man pay once and for all.

"What's the connection between these two?" murmured Gideon next to him. James sighed and recounted what he knew: the Lestranges and Averys were two old, pure-blood families tied together through vapid loyalty to Voldemort. Rodolphus was a year older than his brother Rabastan and Pietro Avery; James had been in school with the younger Avery, Dante.

"You know, Rabastan and Pietro were in my year, actually, but I don't remember Avery being quite so cruel then." Gideon paused. "I do remember a bit of talk about him and Rabastan, though."

James glanced up in surprise. "You mean, together…" He trailed off, leaving it unsaid. Gideon shrugged.

"There were rumors. It might explain why their families are so close."

James stared at the imposing mansion, wondering if Pietro was there on business or a lover's tryst. He had always assumed that the less wealthy Avery family had simply latched onto the more powerful Lestranges, and that the latter had taken them under their wing as a favor to the Dark Lord. He shuddered to think of closer ties between the two families; he knew how emotion could drive men, for a forbidden relationship had seen Sirius attacked twice already, back in school.

As darkness settled around them, they tried to sketch out a plan. It was pathetic at best, deadly at worst. James assured Gideon he could get them past the wards and onto the grounds. Gideon would get them inside the house. Then it got complicated.

Even if they found Sirius, getting out would be almost impossible without being caught. It was likely there were Anti-Apparition jinxes that would keep them from Apparating, but they could only Apparate if they weren't fighting for their lives anyway, and somehow James suspected there would be battle. He almost longed for it; he wanted a chance to duel Avery again and take down the Lestranges once and for all.

"Ready?" asked Gideon. "We'll just have to improvise our escape—fight our way off the grounds as best as we can."

James nodded reluctantly as he stood and stretched. "Let's head to the back. We'll come over the wall under cover of the trees, and then we can sneak in the back of the house rather than barge through the front door."

They set off around the rolling property, bordering the wall until they came to a large copse of trees. Setting off through the woods, they soon turned and made their way back to the wall that surrounded the property. There was an iron gate that opened to the forest, but it was locked and warded.

Gazing through the iron bars across the large lawn, James saw the pond to their left, and a small formal garden on the right. There was a patio set across the back of the house and a fountain that still burbled in the cold night. They could just barely see inside the manor, where the servants bustled about preparing dinner in the bright kitchen.

"Going to fill me in yet?" Gideon asked over his shoulder.

"The less you know, the better," James murmured. "But trust me. I can do this. I just need to…well, Transfigure you."

Gideon ran a hand through his auburn hair. "Stands out a bit, yeah?" He winked, and James grinned.

"No, not the hair. The being human bit." He waited for it to sink in.

"You're going to Transfigure me into…an animal?" he asked, and James could clearly hear the nervous skepticism in his voice. "Are you sure about that? It's risky anywhere, let alone trying to sneak into a Death Eater's house."

"It's just to get past the wards," James said. "You said yourself they probably don't keep animals out, and there are plenty roaming around so I think we'll be okay. As soon as we get to the house, I'll change you back."

Gideon nodded slowly, frowning. "How are you getting in then?"

"I have my own way in, don't worry," James replied.

"The cloak could trip the wards too," Gideon warned him. "I'd hate to start this by getting caught before we even get in."

"I know. Trust me."

Gideon took a deep breath and nodded. "Just not a mouse. Too bloody small."

"I was thinking about a rabbit," James whispered as he pulled out his wand. "A ginger rabbit."

"Brilliant," laughed Gideon. "Well, let's go, then. I'm in your hands."

James pointed his wand at Gideon and murmured the spell. Gideon slowly morphed into a small ginger rabbit; before it could hop away, James froze it with a second spell and a quick apology. Then he transformed into a stag.

It was the only thing he could think of. He had already seen animals on the property; it seemed unlikely the wards kept them from wandering in through the gate or burrowing under the wall. He would slip through the iron bars, and if the wards were tripped, then he'd run off as a stag with a rabbit in his mouth, leaving the house none the wiser.

The freezing spell wore off, and Gideon started to hop away. Prodding him toward the gate with his nose, he pushed the rabbit through the iron bars, then slipped through himself. He grabbed Gideon in his teeth, feeling a bit like a mother cat, and bounded quickly across the grass. Skirting around the fountain, he resisted the urge to stop for a drink. The rabbit struggled to escape, and James hurried into the shadow of house, ducking underneath a dark window.

The rabbit wriggled out of his grasp and began to run away. James quickly changed back and cast the spell; Gideon appeared on all fours, his nose still twitching. Grabbing his arm, James pulled him deeper into the shadows. Gideon's eyes were wide, his breathing shallow. James had rarely seen Gideon ruffled, but apparently being changed into a rabbit was one of the things that could ruffle him.

"What the hell just happened?" he hissed under his breath. "How did I get here?"

"I told you it was better if you didn't know," James said softly, moving toward the door. "I've got us here, now it's your turn."

Gideon simply stared at him a bit longer, before he blew out a long breath and moved toward to the kitchen door. "All right, I've got an idea. Are you ready with the cloak? They're likely to have anti-Disillusionment Charms set now we're on the grounds."

"It'll be harder to move around," James muttered as he pulled the cloak from his robes.

"But it's far less likely they have spells for it," Gideon replied. "They're rare as it is, and yours is rather unique."

"Just get us in already," James grumbled as he leaned as close to Gideon as possible and tossed the cloak over them both. Gideon grinned at him.

"You'll have to be patient," he whispered. "Hopefully someone will be curious enough to check on the noise."

"What noise?" James whispered.

"This one." Gideon opened his mouth and made a hideous sound, like some sort of animal in great pain. James flinched, but he did not have to wait long for a result: a servant appeared at the kitchen door and stepped outside, searching the grounds as he swore under his breath about all the damn foxes that roamed the moor. James and Gideon slipped in behind him, carefully making their way through the kitchen. James cast a Muffliato spell just to be safe.

The Lestranges were well off, but they did not have a large staff. The cook worked hurriedly at the stove, while two house elves, old and weathered by hardship, moved slowly about the kitchen, gathering table linens and serving pieces and making the short journey through the kitchen to the dining room as slow as molasses. The servant who had stepped outside returned, grumbling as he started to take the finished dishes into the dining room after the houselves.

James and Gideon followed him and moved carefully through the dining room into the main hallway. There they stopped, trying to get their bearings. The large front doors were to their left, and a grand staircase led to the upper floors on their right. They had no idea where Sirius was being held, and the longer it took to find him the greater chance they had of being found. They were about to step into the foyer and head toward the back of the house when James stopped suddenly; it was all he could do to keep from exclaiming out loud at what—or rather who—he saw coming down the staircase. Behind him, Gideon Prewett stepped on his foot and swore softly into his ear.

"What is it?" he whispered. James pulled him through the nearest doorway into the front sitting room and stepped behind the door. He took a deep breath.

"Arlienne Lestrange just came down the stairs," he whispered. "She's back."

"Back from where?" Gideon asked.

"From France. Damn, I wonder if Sirius knows. I wonder if that's why they took him."

"What are you talking about?" Gideon demanded. "What's going on?"

James filled him on Sirius's relationship with the youngest Lestrange with a few sentences; Gideon whistled under his breath. "Think she'd help us?" he asked.

"I have no idea. I didn't talk to her much then, and it's been almost two years since."

Gideon narrowed his eyes at James. "If she says no, she doesn't have to even remember we asked."

"As long as she doesn't scream first," James muttered under his breath. Once again he hated having to do it, but this was war, and Sirius was being held prisoner somewhere in the house. If Arlienne knew, they needed that information—and there was always the slim possibility that she would give it up willingly to help them.

James glanced around the doorway to see if Arlienne was still in the entryway. "Do we need to—" Gideon began, but at that moment, James pulled back.

"No, she's coming this way," he hissed.

"I'll make sure," murmured Gideon, pulling out his wand. He waved it at the doorway, casting a light spell that would turn Arlienne's steps toward them, where they could take her quickly and quietly behind a closed door.

She stepped into the room, glancing around with a confused look on her face; obviously she had not intended to come to that room. Gideon Silenced and Disarmed her as James shut the door behind them and took off the invisibility cloak. Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head vehemently. James felt wretched: this was the girl Sirius had risked everything for seventh year, the girl he'd suffered for and almost drank himself into oblivion over. And now James was trussing her up for information on something her brothers had done to Sirius; it seemed so unfair.

"We're not here to hurt you," he whispered in her ear, knowing it sounded ridiculous but hoping she would recognize and believe him. "We're just here for Sirius. Can you help us?"

She turned to him, shock on her face, and James was certain that she didn't know. She gestured wildly at her mouth, and he nodded at Gideon to release the Silencing spell. She gasped and drew in a deep breath as James watched her warily.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered. "What's happened to Sirius?"

Gideon snorted skeptically, but James shot him a look. It was entirely possible Sirius could be held prisoner in the house without Arlienne knowing, and for some reason he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"He was kidnapped yesterday. Word in the Hag's Rest is that he's here." He paused to let it sink in. "Where would be the best place to hide him?"

Arlienne just stared at him, her eyes full of pain. "I can't believe they would do anything to him," she whispered. "I didn't think they even knew."

"Knew what?" asked Gideon sharply. Arlienne didn't answer, but James understood.

"You've seen him, haven't you?" he asked softly. "You and Sirius were together. Your family knows, Arlienne. That's why they've taken him, I'm sure of it. Where is he?"

She nodded slowly, obviously still in shock. "Probably in the cellar under the left wing. I know they have their secret meetings down there. The entrance is somewhere in the back parlor and almost certainly warded."

James swore under his breath. "Can you get us in?"

"No, I've no idea how. I've only been back a few weeks, and they haven't let me in that room. And I've had no reason to ask. I want nothing to do with them."

James thought quickly. They were in the house and had a good idea where Sirius was being held. It could be time to abandon stealth and move with force.

"When is supper?" asked Gideon out of the blue.

"Fifteen minutes," answered Arlienne, confused. "I came down to see how it was coming. Why?" She seemed to suddenly understand. "You need a distraction, when the entire house is together."

"That depends—do you have any idea what kind of wards protect the cellar door?" James asked, following Gideon's line of thinking.

She closed her eyes and seemed to think about it. "I'm fairly certain it's hidden behind one of the tapestries. There's probably a Repelling Charm, possibly a Caterwauling Charm, although I've never heard it go off."

"Okay, then we definitely need a distraction. We can take out a Repelling Charm," said Gideon. "But if there's an alarm, we need a _loud_ distraction."

"Like what?" she whispered. Gideon just shook his head, at a loss. James snapped his fingers.

"Set off the wards outside," he told her. "Excuse yourself and as soon as they go off, we'll break into the cellar while everyone is distracted." She shook her head immediately.

"They'll suspect it was me, and they'll check my wand. That's probably how they knew I'd seen Sirius. They're watching my every move." Even as she said that, someone called her name from the entryway.

"I have to go," she said. "I'll do what I can if it comes to it, but it'll just make things worse if they think I'm helping you." She laughed bitterly through her nose. "Try triggering the wards with a Patronus. You know Death Eaters can't stand them."

"Good idea," said James, appreciating both her honesty and her suggestion. The call came again from outside the door. "Go, we'll get him out. Stay safe."

"You too," she murmured as she hurried toward the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. "And I'm sorry."

The door began to open and James cast the invisibility cloak over him and Gideon just before Rodolphus Lestrange stepped into the room, frowning.

"Who were you talking to?" he demanded. Arlienne raised an eyebrow as she swept past him, her head high and her back straight.

"The damn dog got under my feet again. Excuse me, I have to wash up before supper." She hurried out without a look back. Rodolphus glanced around suspiciously until his eyes fell on the dog splayed on a large rug by the window.

"Mongrel," he muttered, then slammed the door shut. James let go the breath he'd been holding.

"Damn, I wanted to hex him right there," muttered Gideon beside him, breathing heavily.

"I didn't even know there was a dog in here," James whispered back, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically. "We are so damn lucky it didn't bark."

"I put him to sleep as soon as we walked in." Gideon grinned at him. "I'm good."

"That you are," James replied. "Come on, let's do this."

"Do what exactly?."

"I think we need to go with Arlienne's idea: you cause a distraction outside, and I'll get Sirius."

Gideon looked skeptical. "Do you trust her?" he asked. James shrugged.

"In some ways, yes. In other ways, no. But it's the best we've got."

"Who takes the cloak?" asked Gideon.

"You take it," James replied, handing it to him. "I'll take my chances with a Disillusionment Charm if I need it."

Gideon studied him curiously. "Actually, how about this?" He Transfigured James's clothes into something very similar to what they had seen the servant in the kitchen wearing. He then shot a spell at James's head, and James felt a small beard and moustache cover his face. He grinned as he rubbed at it.

"It'll have to do, I suppose. Where should we meet?"

"How about the fountain out back?" Gideon suggested. "I'll wait as long as I can before coming in after you."

James grinned. "You mean, I'll be saving your arse before you even make it around back." Gideon snorted; they both froze, hoping no one had heard them. When no one appeared, James breathed deeply and put his hand on the door.

"Let's go. Dinner should be in about ten minutes now. I'll expect your diversion then. Make it loud."

Gideon nodded seriously. "Good luck, James. Don't get caught."

"Same to you. See you out back."

Gideon took the cloak and hurried from the room. James saw the front door open and close by itself and knew Gideon was probably making his way toward the most advantageous spot on the grounds to set off the wards without being discovered. He hoped the cloak worked and Gideon wasn't revealed; he also hoped the diversion would draw out the family so he could get into the cellar unheard and unseen.

Glancing around the entryway, James straightened his servant's clothes and strode out as confidently as he could, hoping he appeared to know what he was doing and where he was going should anyone accost him. If they did, they'd know he wasn't a servant immediately, and he'd have to fight his way out. He hurried down the hallway toward the back parlor and was just about to enter when Rodolphus Lestrange strode out with his wife, Bellatrix.

James jumped behind the door as it opened and caught his breath, hoping against hope they didn't shut the door and see him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as they walked across the entryway toward the dining room.

"How did it go?" Bellatrix asked, heels clicking on the marble floor. "Has he screamed yet?"

"No," Rodolphus murmured. "Bloody idiot won't make a sound. Perhaps I'll let you try after all. I'm getting bored."

Although he could not see her, James could imagine the delighted look on Bellatrix's face, because he could certainly hear it in her voice.

"I could break him within the hour," she said. "Shall I try now?"

"After dinner," Rodolphus replied as they entered the dining room. "We'll call it dessert."

It was all James could do to stop himself from stepping out and hexing them right there, but he knew he needed to get Sirius out before anything—especially if his cousin was going to have a go at him after dinner. As he slipped into the parlor, James saw Pietro Avery coming down the stairs with Rabastan, and he literally bit his lip to keep from starting anything. He shut the parlor door quietly behind him and searched the room as quickly as he could for the secret entrance that led down to the cellar where Sirius was being held.

He found it quickly, tucked behind a large tapestry on the inside wall: a wooden door that almost blended right into the paneling. He was tempted to pull it open, but he knew there were wards and had to wait for Gideon's diversion. He was studying the room, planning for their escape, when he finally heard a high-pitched shrieking and a blare of lights from outside. Gideon had tripped the wards; now was the time to act.

James waited until he heard footsteps hurrying toward the front door. Then he blasted the doorway in the wall, but just as Arlienne had said, a strong Repelling Charm sent the spell back toward him. The Caterwhauling Charm he had expected set off a raucous alarm, and James knew he had only minutes before it was heard over the alarm outside, and he was discovered.

He cast spell after spell at the doorway, each bouncing back into the room. He finally broke through by sheer force of will with a powerful Reductor Curse that almost took his breath away with the amount of effort he threw into it. He hurried down a set of stone stairs and found himself in a narrow corridor, lit by a single torch set into the wall. There were several rooms, but it was obvious which one held the prisoner: it was the one with the nervous guard in front, wand raised against the ferocious assailant that had blasted in the door.

James took him out easily. In fact, it was all too easy, and that worried him. He stepped over the inert body of the unconscious wizard at his feet and tried the door. It was locked. He blasted a spell at it; nothing happened. Hearing a voice from the other side, he leaned close to listen.

"You'll probably need their secret tattoo to get in," said Sirius, his voice sounding tired but determined. "Apparently they are branding something on their arms, and it's the only way through. Better find yourself a Death Eater."

"Shit," James murmured. It _had_ been too easy—up to that point. Now he was stuck. He searched the guard, but there was nothing on his arm. James glanced wildly around the cellar, desperately trying to think of how he was going to get into the cell when it was protected by some sort of arcane spell he had never heard of before. He started throwing more spells at the door, but nothing worked. He swore again.

"Is that you, Potter?" called a voice behind him. James turned to find Dante Avery standing at the foot of the stairs. "Nice disguise. I figured you'd show up eventually. Always saving Black's arse, just like in school."

He turned slowly and grinned. "I just wanted to kick _your_ arse again, Avery."

"You can try. We've got plenty of rooms down here," Dante replied, an ugly leer on his face as he leveled his wand. "Including one for you."

"No thank you," James replied, mentally planning his attack, as if he were practicing with the drone at headquarters. "I was actually just leaving."

Avery opened his mouth to retort, but James Silenced him. Then he cast an equally quick Leg-Locker Curse, which Avery just barely blocked, followed by a Stinging Hex aimed at his head. Thrown off by the three quick curses, Avery didn't react fast enough, and James caught him on the shoulder with a Stunner before his opponent could even get off one curse.

Avery went down hard, and James hurried over to the body and pulled up his sleeve. It appeared Voldemort had deemed Dante Avery worthy, as the faint outline of a hideous serpent and skull was branded into his skin. Throwing Avery over his shoulder, James grunted as he stepped over the guard and passed through the door into Sirius's cell, the Dark Mark acting as key.

Dropping Avery, he embraced his friend, who was standing, however shakily, with his hand against the wall. He had a deep gash across his neck and looked gaunt and tired, but his eyes were burning now that James had arrived and freedom was steps away.

"Took you long enough," Sirius murmured. James grinned.

"Thank me once we're out of here," he tossed back as he grabbed Avery's inert body once more. "Here, grab his arm, hopefully that mark will get us both out."

He didn't know if it would work, but was relieved when they both passed through the door unscathed. The guard outside was still unconscious. Sirius took his wand, and they tied up both the nameless guard and Dante Avery before heading back up the stairs. Sirius blinked in the light of the parlor. James almost made a joke, until he heard the sounds of dueling coming from outside on the grounds.

"The rest of the cavalry, I hope?" asked Sirius.

"Just Gideon," James murmured. He hurried toward the French doors at the back. Pulling back the curtain to assess the situation, he saw Gideon at the fountain, fighting off at least five assailants. And to his shock, Lily, Remus, Peter, and Fabian Prewett had joined him, along with Alastor Moody and Frank Longbottom.

"Come on, the cavalry's arrived after all," he said, pushing open the doors. There was a shout behind him, and a thud as a body fell to the floor. He whirled to find Sirius staring at Arlienne Lestrange…and the unconscious body of the servant from the kitchen.

"Go," she hissed. "Get out while you can. They've called for reinforcements."

Sirius glanced back at James, then to Arlienne. She shook her head and backed up, the look on her face scared but determined. "Just go. And I'm so sorry—I didn't know." She turned and fled, leaving Sirius standing in the middle of the room in shock. James grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"Let's go. There's nothing you can do."

"They'll kill her," Sirius said, still staring after her.

"She can obviously take care of herself," James replied. He pushed open the doors and leapt over the short railing onto the lawn. The small band of Order fighters was holding their own against the Death Eaters, obviously waiting for James and Sirius. They hurried across the lawn together, casting spells as they ran. Sirius hit his cousin Bellatrix square in the chest as she turned. James saw Sirius grin almost maniacally, but the victory was short-lived: six more Death Eaters appeared, which meant they were now outnumbered.

"Looks like things just got a bit more complicated," Sirius murmured as they ran. "Some rescue."

"Thank me when we're out of here," James repeated. He didn't add, _If we get out of here._

* * *

**End Notes:**

Thank you, Kara, for helping me break into Lestrange Hall! And thank you, Lea, for looking it over to make sure I did it right!

I know you all love cliffhangers, but the next chapter will be up on Sunday. :)


	5. Hit

Hit

Sirius ran across the lawn as fast as he could, but the burst of energy he'd felt at finally escaping his dark cell was quickly fading. He fired off a spell at his cousin and was pleased to see it hit her squarely in the chest, but even as he caught up with the other members of the Order, he was gasping for air and ready to collapse. He'd been rescued, but could barely stand upright; how he'd survive a skirmish he wasn't sure, but he was determined to fight now that he was free.

He slipped as he came up beside Remus. He heard James swear loudly and turned to assure his friend that he was all right, but then he saw the real problem: six more Death Eaters had arrived, running across the lawn with black robes billowing out behind their hideous masks. The spells came quickly, and he stumbled again as he began to block the curses flying furiously their way.

Both Remus and Peter stepped in front of him as he tried to gain his balance. "I'm fine," he muttered, more frustrated with his body's betrayal of simple balance than their over-protectiveness.

"You look like hell," Remus commented over his shoulder. He looked calm but exhausted as the battle surged around them.

"Nice to see you too, Moony," Sirius grumbled.

"Hope so," Remus replied. He blocked a Stunning spell from one of the new Death Eaters and sent back a Stinging Hex that was parried just as easily. Sirius stepped up beside him, wand raised, and Remus gave him a quick but concerned look. "Don't push yourself. We've got you covered, you know."

"I'm fine," Sirius repeated, but he barely blocked a jet of blue light from yet another attacker, staggering as he sent it spiraling away into the night. Peter caught his arm and helped him get steady.

"You've been locked up for three days," Peter said. He saw the gash on Sirius's neck and frowned. "And you've got a nasty injury. We can handle it." Sirius shook his head, touched at Peter's offer when dueling had never been his strong point, but annoyed nonetheless.

"Three days?" He tried to laugh, but he had to block another spell. "That's it?"

Next to him, Remus shook his head, but with a small smile that immediately disappeared as a red jet of light came crashing toward him. Sirius cast a Shield Charm and gave him a curt nod. Not far from them, James was fighting side by side with Lily, casting curses at a pair of Death Eaters slowly advancing toward them. Gideon had his brother's back, and Moody was fighting three at once while Frank Longbottom dueled furiously with Rodolphus Lestrange. But they were being forced to retreat, step by step, back toward the house instead of away, as the new attackers lent strength to the Death Eater's fight and began to surround them.

And then three more appeared from the house: Dante Avery and the guard from the cellar, running toward them with the servant Arlienne had hit, all three with wands drawn. Avery headed straight toward James, who took a hard shot to the arm before putting him down once more with a savage growl and powerful Impedimenta Curse. A quick glance at Sirius, a nod, and Sirius knew his friend would be all right. The battle continued, wands flashing feverishly in the night.

But then there was a burst of light next to him, and a shout, and Peter flew backward ten feet to land awkwardly on the lawn, unconscious and with his arm contorted at a wholly unnatural angle. Sirius rand to kneel down next to him as Remus covered them both and shouted to James, who turned, saw the blood coming from Peter's head, and swore. He whirled on the man who had hit Peter.

It was Pietro Avery, and he laughed as James left Lily's side and stepped forward to face him one-on-one. Sirius stayed with Peter, watching the new duel with his wand drawn and his heart in his throat. He knew James could take Avery any day, only he'd already been fighting hard and hit at least once. Then again, he seemed fueled by fire as they circled one another, their wands moving so fast they were almost unseen, red and blue and yellow light crashing against invisible shields as both men tried desperately to hit the other, to gain the upper hand, to end their continued animosity once and for all.

A quick glance around told him Gideon and Fabian had taken down two Death Eaters, leaving them with Rabastan Lestrange, who putting up a furious fight as he dueled them both. Remus fought two more Death Eaters in front of him, and Sirius frowned, because even though they were masked, one of them looked familiar, and he was fairly certain it was his brother. The thought turned his stomach, that he was finally facing his own brother in battle. He'd fought his cousins before, but never Regulus, and he was torn between jumping up to push him out of harm's way and taking his wand to help Remus put him down.

Lily was dueling a Death Eater and holding her own; his mask had come off and Sirius recognized Corin Mulciber, a Slytherin from their time at Hogwarts. Mulciber had done cruel things in school, and Lily seemed determined to make him pay for it. Moody still had three attackers trying to take him down, but one went flying backward to land in an awkward heap at the foot of the fountain, leaving him with two large, masked Death Eaters. Frank Longbottom finally caught Rodolphus on the shoulder with a sharp spell; Lestrange retaliated with a brutal Cutting Curse that caught Frank just under the arm. He held his arm to his chest, but continued to fight.

Sirius blocked a sudden jet of light and sent it spinning away into the night. He glanced around for the wizard who had cast it, and sent a strong Stunning Spell toward the guard James had knocked out in the manor. The man tried to block it, but it caught his right leg, and he fell heavily to the ground. Though outnumbered, the fight was not lost for the Order.

In the midst of everything, James and Pietro continued to circle one another as the battle swirled chaotically around them. It was as if they were impervious to anything else and focused only on one another. Sirius had rarely seen such hatred written across his friend's face, and found himself worried that in spite of it—or perhaps because of it—something terrible would happen to James.

Remus finally took down one of the Death Eaters he has dueling, but then abruptly toppled over, his legs cut from beneath him with a simple yet effective Leg-Locker Curse. Sirius jumped in front of him, drawing on his last reserves to throw up a shield and hold back his brother as Remus pulled himself on his arms toward Peter to cover their still unconscious friend. And yet before either Sirius or Regulus could cast an offensive spell toward one another, they were distracted.

Pietro Avery sidestepped a hex from James, but instead of aiming his next curse directly at his opponent, he hit Lily hard in the back, then gave James a victorious smirk. James turned, saw Lily fall and Frank Longbottom jump forward to help her, then lashed out with more force than Sirius had ever seen: spell after spell burst forth from his wand, until Avery couldn't block them anymore. He started to retreat, but James followed him, ignoring Moody's call to back off, ignoring Frank's shout, and Remus's, and Sirius's.

He slashed at Avery as if a maddened fit of insanity had overcome him. The battle seemed to slow down as Avery finally fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds, including a deep gash across his shoulder, exactly where he had once injured James. He raised his wand one more time, casting a feeble spell that James blocked easily. He sent a powerful Stunner back, his face curled with anger, and Avery toppled over to his side.

Only he hit his head on a fist-sized rock, right on the temple, and it was obvious as the blood started to seep from his slackened mouth that he was dead.

Dead.

It was if time stopped, and Sirius felt his heart plummet in his chest as he stared at James, standing over the body of Pietro Avery. They had all fought battles in the Order for over a year, and people had died, but never before had one of them killed another human being, not even a Death Eater: not Remus, not Peter, not Lily, and not even Sirius with his reckless temper. James stared at the body in front of him, at Avery's lifeless eyes staring blankly into the sky. And then without warning he fell to the grass, clutching his leg and screaming in agony.

Rabastan Lestrange was advancing, his breath ragged and his face contorted in rage as he held his wand at James, poised to strike again with whatever brutal spell he had just cast. Ignoring his own opponent, Sirius lashed out with as much intensity as he could muster and sent Rabastan flying backward to land unconscious in the fountain. The simple spell sapped him of strength, and he let his arm fall, unable to hold it up any longer. In front of him, the masked Death Eater he was certain was Regulus hesitated. Behind him, he could hear Moody yelling once more, but he didn't understand: all he could hear was James still screaming.

Lily had regained consciousness and crawled to James, Frank Longbottom covering her and casting charm after charm to protect them both. Gideon and Fabian were still standing back to back, fighting hard as Rodolphus Lestrange now turned his attention to them. Remus had stood and was still covering Peter. But as Sirius rose in exhausted shock, the world was rocked by a deafening explosion and a million shards of light seemed to crash all around them. As the Death Eaters glanced around in surprise, Moody sent a powerful jet of fire into the air and brought it crashing down to the lawn, a wall of fire separating the remaining Death Eaters from the Order members now struggling for their lives. Then he shouted once more.

"Get back to the trees! The Anti-Disapparition charm ends there." He was suddenly right next to Sirius and grabbed his arm. "Your rescue is officially over, Black. Let's go."

Sirius watched as Lily stood on shaky legs. Frank Longbottom grabbed James around the waist, and Lily slipped an arm under his shoulder, but James could barely walk, his head lolling to his chest, his face contorted in agony. Sirius could see blood trickling from James's mouth as he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. They limped toward the trees. Turning, Sirius helped Remus carry a still unconscious Peter between them. The Prewett brothers nodded at Moody and followed. Moody held the wall of fire, slowly retreating toward the trees as well. The Death Eaters followed, casting spells at the fire wall, but Moody held them back by sheer force of will.

It seemed an eternity until they reached the trees. Frank Longbottom blasted open an iron gate set into the wall and they tumbled through into the woods, free of the Anti-Disapparition charm. Frank Longbottom took James in a Side-Along Apparition and disappeared immediately. Lily looked back at Sirius with a questioning glance; he nodded at her, and she followed. Handing Peter to Remus, Sirius watched as they Disapparated to safety, then blew out a breath, hoping he had the strength to manage it. Gideon Prewett appeared at his side.

"I've got you," he murmured. "It's over now." He motioned to his brother, and Fabian disappeared. Only Moody was left, edging backward with his wall of fire. Then with one last spell that sent a thunderous clap of sound and fire at the Death Eaters, he barked at Gideon to get out of there, and they left the ruins of the battle behind them.

Sirius was free, but at what price?

* * *

James was still screaming.

He hadn't stopped since they had arrived, and Sirius felt like he was going to fly apart from the sound, a constant agonizing shriek of unbearable torture. He had seen James at his very worst: had seen him injured and defeated and even depressed, but he had never heard him scream with such pain. And if it was upsetting him, how Lily was holding it together, Sirius had no idea. She had gone in with her husband, but the Healers had quickly turned her out. She sat with Frank and Alice Longbottom. Frank's arm was still held to his chest, but neither he nor Alice seemed able to move as Sirius paced up and down the hallway in spite of his exhaustion, waiting for it to stop, for some word that James wouldn't be screaming in agony for the rest of his life.

"Will you get yourself looked at already?" Lily said from where she sat. Her voice was cold and abrupt. Frank glanced up at him but didn't say anything. Sirius turned around and sighed; he couldn't pick a fight with her, not then.

"As soon as I know he's all right."

Lily stood and stared at him. "Fat lot of good it'll have done him to rescue you if you die from stubbornness and shock."

She might as well have slapped him in the face. Yes, it was his fault. He had got caught, and James had got injured trying to rescue him. He knew it. The guilt gnawed at him, kept him rooted to the spot, as if he were punishing himself by refusing to get help. His old wound had opened, he was dehydrated and malnourished from his brief captivity, but he wouldn't leave. James came first.

"Lily, it's not his fault," Frank said softly, coming to stand next to her. She shrugged him off, her green eyes staring daggers into Sirius. Frank actually stepped back from her wrath.

"Yes, it is," she said, and she said it so matter-of-factly that Sirius shut his eyes against the simple but brutal accusation. "Which is why you can't die. See a Healer. Now, Sirius."

Before he could say a word, the screaming stopped. They rushed to the door, hoping for news. One of the Healers stepped out, but he had a look of deep concern on his face.

"First of all, are you all right, Lily?" he asked, taking her hand. She nodded, asking instead about James. When the Healer was silent for a moment, she held back a sob, for surely there must be bad news. Sirius put an arm around her shoulder, and she looked at him gratefully, the fact that she had just been yelling at him already forgotten and forgiven.

"Your husband has been cursed. Badly." He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his forehead. Sirius tried to remember the man's name from the rush when they'd first arrived. Patil? "We've had to put him in a magically induced coma. He was in so much pain, and we can't…well, we're not sure exactly sure what hit him. Can you tell us anything?"

Lily just stared at him, speechless. "It was Rabastan Lestrange," Sirius offered, his voice hoarse. "I know that much. James went down immediately, clutching his leg and screaming."

Healer Patil nodded. "Yes, the entry point seems to be his left leg. Did anyone see the spell? What color it was, perhaps?"

"It was orange," Frank said. "A deep, dark, ugly orange."

The Healer closed his eyes, as if in defeat. "I was afraid you might say that."

"What is it?" Sirius demanded. "Tell us."

"We suspect that he may have been hit with an arcane piece of Dark Magic, and from what you've just told me, it sounds like _Ignis Aeternum_—Eternal Fire."

Sirius shook his head, and Lily looked confused. "But you can fix it, right? There must be a counter-curse. You can help him, heal him?"

"We've called in our Healer of the Dark Arts to be sure," said Healer Patil. "But if it is Eternal Fire…Lily, there is no cure."

"What does it do?" demanded Sirius.

"It feels like you are on fire," Patil responded, simply and directly. "Always. We can give potions to lessen the pain, but short of amputating his leg, there is nothing we can do. He'll feel it forever, and with it in his leg, it'll probably be a challenge to walk."

Constant pain. Amputation. Sirius just stared at the Healer, as Lily turned into his chest and cried. He tried to comfort her as best as he could, but he was grateful when he saw Remus coming down the hallway, because he suddenly felt dizzy and light-headed and on the verge of collapse.

Remus looked far worse for wear, but at least he was walking steady. "How's James?" he asked softly, though it was likely obvious from Lily's reaction.

"Not good," Sirius murmured. He desperately needed to sit—or preferably, lay down. He steered Lily to Remus and collapsed into the nearest chair. "How's Peter?"

"He took a bad hit on the head," said Remus. "But he'll recover. He might have some complications, though." He paused. "Like memory loss."

"Shit." Sirius let his head fall into his hands. His friends were collapsing around him, and all because of him. It was his fault: he had caused this. But then Frank was there, pulling him up, an arm around his shoulder.

"Come on, Black, we need to get looked at. You're as bad off as they are, and yet you're still acting like some macho wizard rock star."

Sirius grinned tiredly as Frank led him down the corridor. "Maybe I am."

"Sing me the Banshees' latest hit, then," Frank tossed back. But Sirius was too overwhelmed to respond with one of his typical glib responses. He let Frank lead him to the room where Fabian was getting the bandage on his hand changed, and Peter lay silently nearby, tended by two Healers. Frank helped him onto an empty bed and even pushed him down. He motioned for a Healer, and soon Sirius found himself being looked over in spite of his half-hearted protests.

He closed his eyes as the Healer finally cleaned his wound and set the much-needed healing spells on his injuries. He briefly sat up and drank the cup they offered him, too late realizing it was probably a potion of some sort that would force him to rest. As he felt himself slipping off into sleep, he reached out to Frank.

"Is everyone else okay?" he slurred, his tongue slowly going numb. Frank nodded and clapped him on the shoulder with his good arm.

"Everyone's fine, Black."

"Where's Gideon? I have to talk to him."

"He's with Moody and Dumbledore, likely getting an earful." Frank frowned, though Sirius wasn't sure why. "He's fine, though. You can thank him later."

"And James?" asked Sirius. He hadn't been gone long, but if there was any word, he needed to know.

Frank shook his head. "I haven't heard anything else yet. Get some rest, Sirius. You need it."

"You too," he mumbled. "Get yourself looked at."

He fell asleep almost instantly, but the potion couldn't stop the nightmares. He was back in his cell, and Rodolphus Lestrange was leering over him, casting curse after curse, laughing as he writhed on the ground in pain. Then he was escaping and watching one friend go down, and then Lily, and then James, clutching his leg and screaming in endless agony.

And then the memory shifted to something else, and Arlienne was running toward him, but a brutal spell cut her down before she ever reached him. He ran to her lifeless body and held her in his arms, watching her pale face as it morphed into the nameless features of a woman he didn't recognize. It was an endless spiral of bitter memories and dark dreams, and he knew he'd be reliving it over and over for the rest of his life. He embraced it, for it would be his penance and his punishment.

He only hoped that James wouldn't suffer as well.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Thank you Lea! Thoughts? Questions? Comments? That's what the box below is for! Reviews are love. James needs them. ;)


	6. Fear

Fear

The light was dull and hazy, yet still he needed to squint. Even then, he could only make out a stark white openness above him: the ceiling? Yes, the ceiling. Where, he was still not sure. But he could feel he was lying on a bed of some sort, and knew he was staring at the ceiling.

His head hurt and his arm felt stiff and sore. Yet he did not remember why. Obviously he had been injured somehow, which probably meant he was in the hospital wing again. No, that wasn't right—not Hogwarts. He was no longer a student, and Madam Pomfrey no longer fretted over him and his friends on a monthly basis. St. Mungo's, most likely.

If he wasn't at Hogwarts, how did he get hurt and end up at St. Mungo's? They didn't pull pranks and run amok through the forest anymore; they were responsible adults. They worked now—well, he worked. Remus still hadn't found a job, and Sirius and James didn't need one, both having more than enough family money to support them. They fought for the Order full time.

The Order. That was it. He was in the Order as well. He usually just gathered information, but something must have gone wrong. There must have been a fight, a battle. Where? What had happened, and why couldn't he remember?

"Where am I?" he finally asked, speaking out loud to the dull white ceiling. A blurry face appeared, and he could just make out a small smile.

"St. Mungo's, of course," replied a voice he was certain he recognized. One of his friends—James? No, it was Remus; his voice was lower.

"That's what I thought," he grumbled, his throat dry and raspy. "Now tell me why."

Remus laughed lightly. "Welcome back, Pete. Why don't you sit and have something to drink first?" he asked.

Peter groaned as he lifted himself into a sitting position. He was sore everywhere, not only his arm, which was just more sore than the rest of his body. He had a raging headache and almost felt like vomiting from the simple act of sitting up. The thought of raising his arm to hold a glass to his mouth and actually sip from it was nauseating.

Fortunately, Remus held the glass for him, and Peter forced something down, coughing as it soothed his parched throat. Remus offered him some food, but he shook his head, his stomach already rolling; eating was not something he wanted to do for days—if ever again.

"What happened?" he asked. He leaned back against the pillows. "Why do I feel like I've been run over by a herd of centaurs?"

"You'd probably be better off with the centaurs," Remus said, pulling up a chair. "As for what really happened, what do you remember?"

Peter struggled to recall any sort of fight or duel, but the last thing he could remember was leaving the apothecary where he worked. Remus had sent a Patronus with a message. What had he said? Something about Sirius…

"I remember leaving work, but I 'm not sure when that was…" He trailed off; it was dark now, but he suspected he'd been out a lot longer. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days," Remus replied. "Although you've been awake a few times, but you didn't really make much sense. What else do you remember?"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to think. He had got the message from Remus, had left work and gone to headquarters…something about Sirius, again, and James…

"I went to headquarters," he said. "There were several people there, but I don't remember who. Something had happened to Sirius." Peter paused and opened his eyes, a sudden rush of panic setting in. "Is he all right? Is he alive?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, he's all right. He was being held captive in Lestrange Hall. Do you remember anything about Dartmoor?"

Peter just stared at his friend. Sirius had been captured? Had they rescued him, then? Was that how he had been injured? In Dartmoor?

"Obviously not," Remus murmured. He moved his chair closer to the bed. "Look, it's all right. You had a nasty head injury out there. The Healers said you might have some temporary memory loss."

"Temporary?" Peter repeated. He was embarrassed to hear his voice crack. There was something unnerving about not being able to remember the last forty-eight hours of his life. He felt violated, for some reason, as if his memories had been stolen by whatever terrible thing had happened to him.

"Temporary," Remus said firmly. "Along with some nausea and blurry vision. Obviously you don't remember much about Dartmoor, so I'll fill you in. It might come back that way."

"Where's my mum? Is she all right?" asked Peter, before Remus started. "She knows what happened, right? She'd hex me if she didn't know I was here."

Remus actually laughed. "Yes, of course we sent her a message. She's been here for two days. We finally sent her home for a few hours to get some decent rest and a change of clothes. She should be back in a bit."

"Good. Thank you." Peter breathed a sigh of relief that his mother was doing all right. They only had each other now, and Peter knew if anything happened to him she would be devastated. "So how did I get hurt?" he finally asked, ready to know what had happened to him in Dartmoor.

"We were there to get Sirius out—" Remus began.

"Who went there?" Peter demanded. "And what happened to Sirius?" Remus was assuming he knew, but his memory was gone. He had no idea who had been there, what had happened. He didn't even remember why Sirius had been captured, although he had probably been told.

"Sirius was captured by Pietro Avery and Rabastan Lestrange. James and Gideon went after him first," Remus said, blowing out a breath and leaning back. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, and Peter noticed for the first time just how exhausted his friend was. How long had he been sitting there as well, waiting for him to awake?

"Moody took you, me, Lily, Fabian, and Frank afterward. We got there just as Gideon was being attacked by about five Death Eaters."

"Where were James and Sirius?" asked Peter, staring in horror. The thought of facing five Death Eaters was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. He didn't even want to ask if Gideon had survived.

"James had gone to get Sirius out of his cell. They joined us right after it started. There was a battle." Remus paused and gave him a sympathetic look. "You were hit with a particularly strong Impedimenta Curse to the head. You're actually quite lucky to be sitting here."

"Why?" whispered Peter.

Remus shrugged, obviously unwilling to say anything that might upset him, but Peter just wanted to know what had happened, wanted to fix the gaping black hole in his mind that was blank. It frightened him. If he couldn't remember the last two days, what other things might he have lost as well? What other memories might be missing, without him even realizing it?

A different thought suddenly occurred to him, and he lunged forward, grabbing Remus's arm. "Why am I so lucky? Who else was hurt? Was someone killed?"

A look of apprehension flashed across Remus's face, but he patted Peter's arm like a child as he released his grip. "Killed, no. Not on our side, anyway. But hurt…yes, there were other injuries."

"Who?" Remus looked away, but Peter grabbed him again. "Tell me, Moony. Did they torture Sirius?"

"Yes, they hurt him." Remus nodded. "He's doing better, though. He'll be all right. Eventually."

Peter knew there was more: he could see it in his friend's eyes, hear it in his voice. "James?" he croaked. Remus handed him another glass of water.

"He was hit after you," Remus whispered, and his voice cracked as well. "Really bad."

Taking in a shaky breath, Remus told him everything: James had been hit by an incredibly rare and powerful spell of Dark magic. _Ignus Aeternum_, he said—Eternal Fire. He had been hit in the leg, the spell leaving no visible wound, but burning him from within. The very cells of his body were being crushed by pain—agonizing, excruciating pain. Remus closed his eyes as he described it.

"I've never heard anyone scream like that, Pete. It was the most horrific, heartbreaking thing I've ever heard." He shook his head. "It's so bad they've put him in a coma. They were afraid the pain would kill him—if it didn't drive him insane first."

Peter was speechless: they had never been through anything like this before. Everything they'd ever experienced at Hogwarts, even in the Order, paled in comparison. Sirius captured and tortured, James hit by Dark magic—and he without any memory of it. His world had been upended beyond return: it was suddenly a much darker place, filled with fear and danger.

"Are _you_ all right?" he finally asked, barely able to think straight.

"I'm fine, yes—thank you," replied Remus with a tired, wan smile.

"And Lily?" Peter couldn't imagine was she was going through. From the look on Remus's face, she was not doing well.

"She took another curse from Avery, but it wasn't bad. Not like two years ago, thank Merlin." He paused. "She's trying to stay strong. The Healers haven't said much about James, but it doesn't look good."

"Is he going to die?" asked Peter, forcing the words out even though he did not want to know the answer.

"No, not from the wound itself. That's relatively superficial. From the pain, maybe."

"There's nothing they can do for it? There's no cure, no counter-curse?"

Remus stood and started pacing. "No, nothing that they've told us, anyway. They're brewing a potion for him, but they said it just barely lessens the pain. They said they could amputate." He shrugged. "But there's no guarantee it would even work. It could spread first."

"Good Godric," said Peter. He felt completely and utterly defeated—and he had survived relatively unscathed. "What the hell is happening to us?"

Remus gave him another wan smile, though this one was tinged with bitterness. "We're in the middle of a war."

Peter fell back again and blew out a frustrated breath. "I don't remember any of this."

"You were already unconscious when it happened," Remus pointed out. He was gazing out the window into the dark night, silent and thinking.

"Who hit him?" Peter finally asked. "Who hit James?"

Remus turned. "Rabastan Lestrange. James had just taken out Pietro Avery, and Rabastan stepped up and hit him hard in retaliation."

"Who hit me?" Peter asked. It didn't matter, not really. He wasn't one for revenge, after all.

"Pietro Avery."

"No." When Remus nodded, Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. "Is that why James…" He trailed off, unable to even think it. Had James gone after Avery for the hit on his friend, only to end up with a curse there was no cure for?

"Yes." Remus was watching him closely. "Before any of us could take on Avery, James stepped forward. When Avery hit Lily, James went almost…berserk."

"Good." Remus's head snapped up, and Peter frowned. "What? Pietro Avery is a despicable, rotten human being. He and his brother have had it in for James ever since the attack in Hogsmeade our seventh year."

"Yes, well…Pietro Avery is dead now."

The words resonated: dead. Pietro Avery was dead. On the one hand, it was one less Death Eater to worry about. And yet Peter could tell something was wrong, something that Remus wasn't telling him…

"Did James kill him?"

A nod. Remus turned to stare out the window again.

Peter tried to pull it together. It had finally happened: one of them had killed another human being. It was war, though, wasn't it? And it was an enemy. Didn't that justify it? The other side was out to kill them, and it was only a matter of time before one of them died. Better for it to be a Death Eater first. They didn't deserve to live, and the rest of them were safer for it.

And yet, Peter knew his friends well enough to know that James would be devastated. On top of a brutal, life-changing injury, how would he cope with taking another life? Remus was clearly worried, and Peter understood why all too clearly: James had gone in to rescue Sirius, and he had sacrificed more than any of them. A broken arm and some memory loss hardly seemed worth staying in bed for when he thought of what James would be facing when he woke.

Peter swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but the world started spinning, and Remus barely stopped him falling to the floor. He laid back down on the bed, gasping as he willed the room to come back into focus, swearing under his breath.

"I should see him." He didn't want to, not really, but he felt like he had to. The idea of seeing one of his best friends almost destroyed by Dark magic frightened him more than just about anything else in the world, especially when it had happened because of him. He forced himself to say it because he knew it was expected, but inside he was scared, and not just of his own injury. He was terrified of a war that could wreak such brutal havoc.

"He's unconscious," said Remus, sitting back down. "It'll be at least a few more days until the potion is ready. You might as well recover. You had a bad concussion. The Healers said you shouldn't move for a few days."

Peter closed his eyes in relief, because that was exactly what he wanted to do, but he felt selfish and pathetic for wanting it so badly. He should be there for his friends. He should be sitting by James's side, not lying invalid in bed. Yet he was weak: he had been hit before any of them, and he couldn't even remember what he had done in the battle, if he'd done anything at all. James probably wouldn't want to see him. It was his fault James was suffering.

His fault.

He was interrupted in his self-pity by a knock on the door, followed by Professor Dumbledore entering the room with a very serious look on his face. Peter sat up straighter, trying to look stronger than he felt, because Professor Dumbledore had always intimidated him. He was certain the headmaster questioned his joining the Order of the Phoenix and imagined any number of things Dumbledore might say now that Peter had essentially proven himself the weakest by getting himself injured so quickly.

"Good evening, gentlemen," said Dumbledore, nodding at them both. "How are you feeling, Peter?"

"Better, sir," Peter replied. "Just trying to remember what exactly happened."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sure Remus told you memory loss is not unexpected with your injury."

"Yes, sir," Peter replied. "It's a bit unsettling, though."

"It could be worse," Dumbledore murmured, eyeing him thoughtfully. He turned to Remus. "Remus, I'd like a word with you in private, if you don't mind."

Remus looked surprised, but nodded. He gave Peter a smile and stood to leave. "I'll be back later. You take it easy."

"I will," Peter said. What else did he have to do? He certainly wouldn't be going on any more rescue missions in the near future. He wondered if that was what Dumbledore had come to talk to Remus about, and he felt vaguely annoyed that he was being excluded from whatever it was they needed to discuss. He was a member of the Order too, wasn't he? And he was actually much better at listening and keeping secrets than fighting, as the debacle at Lestrange Hall had obviously proven.

Dumbledore tipped his head and left, Remus following with a silent wave. Peter debated trying to get out of bed again to see James, but decided he couldn't risk falling on his face with no one around to support him. And still the thought terrified him, to be honest. No, he would stay in bed and try to recover his strength as well as his memories. Then he would move on, to a much different world than before the battle in Dartmoor.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure whether he belonged in that world anymore.

* * *

**End Notes:**

A bit short, I know, but I wasn't expecting to even write this much about Peter! And oddly enough, I wrote this long before I did something similar to James in _Honestly. _I must just have a thing for concussions. Next time I'm going to hit Sirius in the head with a stale cupcake, then onto Remus.

Kidding. Next chapter soon. Sorry to leave you with Peter, but he is part of the group and thus part of the story, after all. Unfortunately.


	7. Strength

Strength

Remus stepped quietly into the room where James was still unconscious, locked up in a magical sleep in a desperate effort to keep him both alive and sane. The worst part was that he looked so _normal_: barely a scratch on him, just a pale face under his usual mop of tussled hair. Yet inside, his very essence was on fire, victim of a curse that could not be cured.

How had it come to this? How could one friend be struggling to remember what had even happened, while another laid in bed, injured beyond repair? And a third, already suffering from captivity and torture, was about to endure more heartbreak. Remus wasn't sure he could be strong enough for them all…and yet he had no choice. He was the only one of them who was whole, and at that thought he shook his head bitterly, because he had never _felt_ whole in his entire life.

Lily turned when she heard him, sitting up straighter and rubbing her eyes. She had obviously fallen asleep in the chair next to James's bed. Remus wondered if she would make it all week without collapsing, until the potion was ready and her husband woke to a life of continuous pain.

"How are you?" he asked. He knew how James was doing; now it was those around him he was more worried about. She shrugged in reply, her face weary.

"You'll get through this, you know," Remus said softly, walking over to her. "James, too."

Lily shook her head and turned back to James. "Thank you for saying that, Remus. I'm trying so hard to believe it."

His heart broke: if she lost hope, what else was there? James would have nothing when he woke. She had to stay strong, no matter how hard it was, and he knew she had it in her. She'd been through tough times already; this might be more than anyone else could bear, but Lily had the strength to handle it. She just needed to believe it.

Remus crouched next to her, took her hand, and squeezed it tight. "I'm not just saying it, Lily. I know it."

She gave him a small smile; he was oddly proud that she wasn't crying, but she'd probably already shed enough tears. "Tell me how you know."

"I just do." He thought for a moment, gazing at his friend lying in bed, his heart in his throat. "I've been through a lot with James. I've never seen him beat, not seventh year, not last year, never. I honestly don't think there is anything that can stop him, sometimes."

"Not even Dark magic?" Lily asked softly, also watching her husband. "Remus, how could anyone survive this? What is his life going to be like—our life? I don't know how I'm going to be able to help him with something like this."

Remus snorted. "He doesn't like help. He's a stubborn independent prat, you know."

It had the effect he had hoped it would: she laughed, however short and light it was. "I know. This is different, though." She paused. "Do you think the potion will help at all?"

"The Healers said it's the only thing that might lessen the effects of the curse." Remus paused. "It'll be something he has to deal with the rest of his life, but I can help him sort that out. I know what that's like."

Lily turned to him, a surprised look on her face. "Remus!" she exclaimed. "Of course you know something about dealing with something so life-changing. I'm sorry to be going on about it."

He shrugged her off. In truth, he was always most happy when his friends seemed to forget about his condition. "It doesn't compare, not really. I suffer once a month. This will be…quite different."

She was silent for moment. "Do you…do you think there is a cure, something the Healers missed? Or something they're not telling us?"

"I don't know." He didn't want to crush any hope she had; it could give her strength, after all. And yet, it seemed unlikely the Healers would know of a cure and not tell them. His instinct told him not to hold onto any false hopes, that they'd missed something, but like Lily, he couldn't help it. He'd never even heard of the curse, yet alone known a curse that didn't have a cure, either. "Let's just get through the week first."

Lily nodded, letting her eyes shut. "You should sleep," Remus told her.

"I have."

"In a bed," Remus said firmly. Lily motioned at the small cot in the room; Remus gave her a skeptical look. "Have you had anything to eat?"

She pointed to the half-finished plate on the table next to her cot, and he held up his hands in surrender. "All right, I'll stop badgering you. Peter's awake."

She opened her eyes, the first relieved look on her face he'd seen in days. "That's great. How is he feeling?"

Remus thought about it: Peter had seemed extremely distressed by what had happened. He had always worried about being the one who was weakest at dueling, the one who did better at hiding in the shadows, listening and watching instead. He had been the one to go down first, and Remus wondered how it would affect his friend's faith in himself. Or worse, his fear of failure.

"He doesn't remember anything about the battle," he finally told Lily. "But I think he'll recover. Maybe not his memories, but hopefully his confidence."

"Poor Peter," murmured Lily. "I could understand how it would upset him."

Remus nodded. "He is indeed upset. Do you know where Sirius is? He hasn't left, has he?"

"He's downstairs, having a smoke." Lily grimaced. "When did he start that again?"

"Probably yesterday," Remus replied. "I'd talk to him about it, but he's got other things on his mind right now. He can have his vice at the moment."

Before she could ask him anything else, he squeezed her shoulder, turned, and left the room. He dreaded having to talk to Sirius, but he couldn't put it off any longer. Professor Dumbledore had asked him to deliver the news personally, to make sure Sirius would be all right. He had to stay strong for his friends, no matter how difficult it became.

Sirius was just outside the entrance, leaning back against the cold brick of the old Muggle building with a lit fag between his fingers. He was blowing smoke into the night air, a haunted look on his face.

"Want one?" he asked as Remus stepped outside and pulled his cloak around him.

"'Course not," Remus murmured. "Those things are vile."

"Suit yourself." He took another drag and turned toward Remus. "How's Wormy?"

"He doesn't remember what happened," Remus replied, "but I think he'll recover. Seems scared, though."

Sirius blew out a vast cloud of white smoke; Remus tried not to cough. He'd hated it when Sirius had first taken up the habit, not long after leaving Hogwarts. They'd broke him of it twice, but he always seemed to come back to it when things got difficult. Considering how hard things were about to get, Remus didn't have the heart to make him stop again.

"Can't blame him, you know," Sirius murmured, misinterpreting Remus's words. "It's bad." He paused and looked away. "And it's all my fault."

Remus glanced at him in surprise, though he should have guessed Sirius would feel guilty. "You didn't cast that curse."

"James wouldn't have been there if I hadn't got myself trussed up," Sirius pointed out. He was strangely detached, almost matter-of-fact about it, which told Remus that Sirius was burying his misery and guilt. Sirius did that sometimes: hid his true feelings behind an empty mask, as if denying them would make everything go away. They had learned the hard way to let him deal with it in his own time, since he would only lash out at them if they tried too hard to help. Yet Remus didn't have time, not now. Sirius had to know.

"Look, anyone of us could have got caught," he said. "And any one of us would have done the same thing James did. You would have gone after him in a heartbeat. You just had the rotten luck of being the one they wanted."

Sirius snorted. "You sure know how to make a bloke feel better, that's for sure."

"I'm not trying to make you feel better," Remus murmured, looking away before turning back to Sirius. "I have news."

Sirius straightened, dropping the cigarette to the pavement and crushing it with the tip of his boot. "James?" he asked, the urgency and concern obvious in his voice.

"No…Arlienne." Remus swallowed as he watched Sirius struggle with even her name.

"What is it?" he finally croaked. "Tell me she's okay, tell me they didn't hurt her…" He trailed off at the look on Remus's face. Remus couldn't help it: he felt tears in his eyes, not for a woman he barely knew, but instead for the friend who obviously loved her so much. A friend whose heart he was about to break.

Arlienne was dead; he couldn't say it, but he didn't need to. He simply shook his head, and Sirius knew.

He closed his eyes. "When?" he whispered.

"Dumbledore just told me," Remus said. "Sometime since Dartmoor, obviously, but he didn't know much else other than she left the house, but didn't make it. Sirius, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing to say." Sirius had disconnected again. He turned to Remus, an unreadable look on his face. "She came back, I saw her again, and it got her killed. Pete lost his memory and James might never walk again—all because of me. It's my fault, Moony. My fault." He finally broke, kicking at a nearby by rubbish bin with a savage curse. "There's nothing you can say about that."

"You didn't kill her!" Remus exclaimed, watching as more began to spill over and Sirius started to pace, his hands clenched into tight fists, as if he were trying not to beat down the walls of St. Mungo's. "You can't blame yourself for something someone else did."

"I can blame myself what I did though, can't I?" Sirius demanded, and his voice dripped bitterness as he stopped and grabbed Remus's shoulders. "Remus, I wanted to see her again, even knowing the risks. I spread that risk to my friends, unasked. And now she's…she's gone, and that's my fault too. My choice, my consequence, my fault."

He stepped back, suddenly and unnaturally calm as he nodded. "Thanks for being the one to tell me." And then he walked away.

"Where are you going?" Remus called.

"Home," Sirius threw over his shoulder.

"No, you're not," Remus replied, starting after him. "You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm fine, Moony," Sirius yelled back. "I've got family."

He turned the corner, and Remus heard the crack of Apparition. Where Sirius had really gone to, he had no idea. He swore under his breath, then brushed away an angry tear. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be strong for everyone. There was too much pain, too much fear, too much sorrow around him. He suddenly felt like he would burst from all the heartbreak; he understood all too well why Sirius had fled.

He was about to turn on the spot to Apparate—somewhere, anywhere—when there was a noise behind him. He whirled toward the sound instead, hand flying to his pocket for his wand, but stopping just short of drawing it when he saw a woman standing behind him, staring down the street after Sirius. In the dim light of the street lamps, he could make out long black hair, a pale face, and a sad look to startling blue eyes. He didn't know her, yet there was something about her that immediately felt familiar.

"Will he be all right?" she asked, her voice an odd mix of friendly and forced.

"Sorry, what?" Remus replied, confused. She motioned down the street.

"Your friend, the one who left so abruptly. He seemed upset."

Remus narrowed his eyes at the woman. He had no reason to trust her, and the fact that he already did bothered him. Still, he was smart enough to know he couldn't share personal information with a complete stranger. He nodded slowly as he gazed after Sirius.

"Yes, I think so. He's had some bad news, that's all."

"I see." She looked even sadder, as if trying to hold back tears. Had she recently had bad news of her own? Remus thought about asking, but she shook her head and offered him a small smile.

"I'm sorry for your friend," she said softly. "I hope things work out for him." She turned to leave, yet after a few steps, Remus couldn't help but call out to her.

"Wait!" She turned expectantly. "Do I know you?" he asked. "Does Sirius?"

Her eyes went wide, in fear or surprise, and she shook her head. "No—no, he doesn't. I'm…well, I guess I'm new to London."

Remus frowned. He wondered if she were a witch or a Muggle. Although he was standing in front of a wizarding hospital, it was hidden from Muggle eyes as a dilapidated old department store. He hadn't actually seen her come out, so she could very well be a Muggle woman simply out for a walk. Yet again, his instinct didn't think so. She was wearing very un-Muggle robes, for one.

She seemed to notice him studying her and rolled her eyes slightly. "Yes, I'm a witch. Which means I'll be fine on my own, if you were thinking of walking me home. Good night, Remus."

She walked away, in the opposite direction of Sirius. As he watched her leave, Remus realized he had not told her his name, and wondered how she had known him when he did not know her.

With a sigh, he turned and headed back into St. Mungo's. The urge to run had gone. There was nothing he could do to help Sirius at the moment, but he could be there for his other friends as they recovered. He just hoped they would be all right: he didn't think he could be strong enough if anything else happened.

* * *

**End Notes:**

I am the master of short updates (at least until I catch up with myself, lol). In case you hadn't noticed, this story bounces around the POV of all the Marauders and will continue to do so. Thank you so much for all the reviews! I really appreciate the support as this story is near and dear to my heart.


	8. Truth

Truth

He felt bad leaving Remus so abruptly, alone and worried on the street, but he couldn't stay. As soon as Remus had nodded his head, confirming his worst fear, Sirius had started thinking of where he could go, what he would do. Anything, anywhere—just to get away from it all. But first he needed to know was if it was true.

He hadn't seen his brother since he'd left Hogwarts, at least not counting the battle at Lestrange Hall. He'd heard things, mostly through the Order. He knew Regulus had taken the Dark Mark and could only imagine how proud it had made his parents, to have at least the one, dutiful son. The very thought of it made his stomach twist, that his family supported such a man—such a monster—as Voldemort. That his brother had towed the family line and joined the ranks of the Death Eaters made his heart break, at times; at other times he hated Regulus as much as the rest of them for being so intolerably ignorant and weak.

He wasn't sure where he would find Regulus, but suspected the Hag's Rest was as likely a place as any. Peter had seen him there a few times, during his undercover missions gathering information for the Order. He hadn't said much, thinking it would upset Sirius, but Sirius wasn't bothered. He'd given up on his brother before they'd even left school. There was only the smallest part of him that hoped Regulus wasn't killed before Voldemort was defeated; maybe then he would see the error of his ways.

Pulling his cloak around him and the hood down over his face, Sirius hurried through Knockturn Alley toward the dingy pub at the far end of the street where many of Voldemort's supporters met to drink and plot. The streets were dark and narrow and filled with fear and trepidation. Merlin, he hated this war. It had ruined too many families, too many people, too many places. It needed to end.

He was slightly surprised to arrive at the Hag's Rest and find himself stopped just inside the door; Peter had never had trouble, but perhaps things had changed. A large man he vaguely recognized—had they dueled at some point, perhaps?—laid a beefy hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight.

"What're you doing here?" he demanded, his voice gruff and threatening violence if Sirius didn't answer satisfactorily.

"I'm looking for Regulus Black," Sirius snapped, wrenching himself from the man's grip. "The rest is none of your damn business."

The guard did not look likely to let him pass, but to his surprise and smallest bit of relief, Regulus stood at a nearby table and nodded. The large man spat at Sirius's feet and motioned him in; it was all Sirius could do to stop himself from sending a hex back at the guard's head as he made his way toward his brother.

Regulus met him halfway and steered him toward the back of the pub—all the way out into a dark alley littered with rubbish bins. Neither said a word until they stood outside, the cold night stars casting elusive shadows over an even colder reunion.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Regulus finally asked. His voice was dripping with reluctance and skepticism, and yet he also seemed nervous, glancing around as if worried someone would catch them together.

"Nice to see you too, Reg," Sirius muttered. "Sorry to interrupt your party planning, but I have one question, and you're going to give me a straight answer. Is it true?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes, defiant yet apprehensive. "Is what true?"

Sirius grabbed the front of his brother's robes, furious that Regulus would play games with him at such a time, no matter the history between them. "Is she dead?" he hissed. "Did they kill her?"

Regulus went pale; he didn't even try to untangle himself from Sirius's grasp. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, it's true."

Sirius threw him back and turned away, his heart beating furiously with anger and loss and confusion and most of all guilt. It was his fault, he had done this to her as surely as if he had cast the curse himself. He should have stayed away, should have known what would happen when he didn't. They had found out, and they had captured him, but when he had escaped, they had killed her instead.

"But _they_ didn't kill her," said Regulus softly from behind him. Once again he was glancing around, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear them talking about it.

"What do you mean?" demanded Sirius. "She didn't kill herself, she wouldn't do that. I know she wouldn't. Never."

Regulus shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. They found her body, but they didn't kill her." He took a deep breath and continued. "Only they don't know who did, and since she ran away after the battle at Lestrange Hall, they have no problem letting people think they took care of their dishonorable, disobedient sibling."

"And of course, everyone believes it," Sirius said bitterly. "It's exactly something they'd do—they probably would have, if they thought she helped me. Sometimes I'm surprised I'm still around after being blasted off the tapestry."

Regulus cocked an eyebrow. "Me, too. But you're a lucky bastard with important friends and apparently that hole is enough for Mum to forget that you exist."

"Thanks," Sirius muttered, stung by the hard truth even after so many years. He idly thought he might have detected the smallest hint of envy in his brother's insult. "So what really happened, then? Tell me."

"That's all I know," Regulus shrugged. "And believe me, I've asked. They roughed her up after you escaped. They were sure she helped you. The next morning she was gone, and they were furious. Rabastan found her body late that night, a few blocks from Diagon Alley."

"Do they think it was the Order?" Sirius pressed, wondering who they would hold responsible, even if they didn't admit it in order to save their family reputation. "Or something—someone—else?"

"I think they're probably blaming the Muggles, since she was found in Muggle London. But they don't want anyone to know a Lestrange was killed by a Muggle, even one who disobeyed the family." Regulus paused. "I overheard them talking, and it wasn't a spell, it was some sort of Muggle weapon that killed her. Apparently it was rather gruesome."

Sirius blanched, then swore as he turned away. He was just about to demand more, when Regulus surprised him yet again.

"I'm sorry," he said, so softly Sirius could barely hear him. "I know how you felt about her."

From the look on his brother's face, Sirius realized that Regulus had loved her too. He had suspected it, when they were at Hogwarts, but then Arlienne had been sent to France for two years. She had finished her sixth and seventh years at Beauxbatons. Even when she had finished school, her family had kept her in France, whether for her safety or their reputation, he did not know. After another four months of exile, she had finally returned to England, and Sirius remembered their reunion as if it were yesterday. She hadn't changed, only grown more beautiful, more confident—and more bitter about her family ties…

* * *

_"They're worse than ever, Sirius!" she exclaimed. "I've been back a week and already being in that house is driving me mad."_

_He opened his mouth, wanting to ask her to be with him, to run away and never have to worry about her family again, but then he shut it, unsure of how such a suggestion would be received after being apart for so long. Her situation was very different than his had been when he had left the Black house, and he could offer her nothing, least of all safety._

_"The people that come to the house are horrible," she continued, and she pulled a face that would have made any other girl ugly. "I know they're up to all sorts of disgusting things. I hear them talking about it, when they think I'm not listening. Then they go back to their secret room and plot some more. Who knows how maybe people they've tortured or killed."_

_Again he was silent, because he was fairly certain Rodolpus and Rabastan Lestrange had been responsible for a terrible attack on a Muggle family a fortnight earlier. It had been horrifying, but he didn't want to trouble her with it, not now, not when they had so little time together. He wrapped his arms around her instead and pulled her close, her chocolate brown hair trailing over his arms and caressing them both._

_"Maybe I shouldn't have come back," she whispered. "It's just so awful here."_

_"It is," Sirius finally acknowledged. "But this is your home. And some of us are fighting for it." He paused and decided to give it a try. Maybe she was desperate enough; he knew she was strong enough, even if she didn't believe it, not yet. "You could join us."_

_She turned, brown eyes wide. "Join you? You mean, your Order, the Order of the Phoenix?" When Sirius nodded, she laughed bitterly. "You may have left your family without much consequence, but I wouldn't survive the week if I tried. You know I wouldn't."_

_He nodded, reluctant to admit the truth. He had run away from home and severed all ties to his family years ago, relinquishing any rights to the Black family fortune. But he was still the oldest male heir, and a Black none-the-less, and he had survived. His family had not threatened his life, not really; the Lestranges were far less likely to simply disown Arlienne if she were to run away, particularly in the arms of a disowned Black who fought for the Order of the Phoenix. No, they would take her life instead. For sure._

_"I know," he murmured. "But if it's that bad, maybe it's worth the risk."_

_"The risk?" she repeated. "It's not a risk, it's a certainty. There's no way I could escape, Sirius. No way I could hide."_

_He cocked his head as he thought about Professor Dumbledore and the many things the Order was able to do some days. It would certainly be difficult, but not impossible._

_"What about us, then?" he finally asked. "Can I see you again? Or is it too much of a risk?" The last word came out far more bitterly than he had intended. He was taking as much of a risk in seeing her as she was, because her family had already come after him once. They'd likely kill him if they found out she had seen him again, so soon after returning._

_"Sirius, I've thought about you every day since I left," she murmured, and she leaned up to kiss him, He returned her kiss, but watched through open eyes, wondering what she would say, what she would do._

_"But you're in danger if we keep seeing each other," she said, pulling away. "You know that. I've put you in terrible danger even coming here…but I had to see you."_

_He pulled her close, his throat tight. "I'm glad you came, even if this is it. I've missed you. My feelings haven't changed."_

_"I know," she whispered. "Nor have mine. So let's have this one time, this one night, and not worry about the past or the future."_

_And he had surrendered to that thought as they claimed each another one last time…_

* * *

Sirius shook his head of the memory, refusing to let it pull him under—at least not then, not there. Not in front of Regulus: he would not let his brother see him weak. He turned back to Regulus, pulling his cloak around him once more.

"I suppose I should thank you for telling me, but it's not the kind of thing one usually thanks someone for," Sirius said. "So I'll just leave you to your own now." He narrowed his eyes, though, and couldn't help but smirk as he pulled his fist back and let it fly straight toward his brother's jaw.

Regulus was not unprepared, having been on edge the entire time they'd been talking; he didn't fall, only staggered slightly as his hand went to his face. "What was that for?"

"That was for Remus," Sirius replied as he walked away. "In Dartmoor."

Regulus laughed bitterly. "Right. Going after Rabastan next for the curse on Potter?"

Sirius stopped short, and without looking over his shoulder, asked as casually as he could, "Why? What do you know about it?"

"Nothing," said Regulus. "But I know Rabastan is scared."

Sirius nodded to himself. "Brilliant. Then maybe I will." He continued walking. The thought had occurred to him, given how much he owed James. It could be even more interesting if Rabastan knew he was coming.

"You can't defeat them, you know," Regulus called. "He's too powerful."

Sirius stopped once more. He had never known his brother to show anything but complete loyalty to Voldemort. And yet now he sounded…regretful? Or frightened? Turning, Sirius cocked his head. "Why? No one is unbeatable."

"The Dark Lord is." Regulus glanced around the alley once more before looking back at his brother.

"Voldemort is just a man," said Sirius, grinning as Regulus flinched. "Men can fall."

"He's much more than that," said Regulus. "You should give up, Sirius. You can't win."

"I'm not a coward," Sirius snapped. "I stand up for what I believe, and I believe he's wrong. Which means I'll fight him until I can't fight any more. Until I die."

Regulus just stared at him, as if there were something he wanted to say but couldn't.

"You should think about your own choices, Reg, and whether you're making the right ones." He paused for effect. "Arlienne died because she didn't want to be part of his world. Are you willing to die to make that kind of world a reality?"

This time he turned and walked out of the alley without looking back, leaving his brother behind with whatever doubts and regrets he might have. He refused to think it was motivated by anything more than fear: Regulus was scared of something. What it was, Sirius had no idea. It could be a new weapon, or it could be a new weakness. Or it could be nothing.

As he stepped out of the shadows and walked toward Diagon Alley, he thought about going to Order headquarters, or St. Mungo's, or even the Leaky Cauldron. But as he made his way through the dark and silent street, Sirius felt suddenly and inexplicably overwhelmed. He didn't need the Order, or his friends, or even a drink this time, he needed to be alone.

Because alone was all he had now, and alone he could finally weep for his loss.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Thank you, lea/mugglegirlmarauder, for encouraging this scene! It was not part of the original plan, but I wanted to flesh out Sirius/Arlienne just a bit, and to my surprise it gave me a chance to bring in Regulus as well. Hope you enjoyed it, because he won't be back. Canon and all that. ;)


	9. Awake

Awake

James lay sleeping before her, spelled into a painless, dreamless slumber. At least, that's what the Healers had told her when they'd first explained the extent of his injury. And yet, in spite of her training, or perhaps because of it, she didn't believe them. She'd been with him ever since that horrible night and had watched the occasional twitch of his hand, a quick intake of breath, a flutter of his eyelids. He was dreaming, and he was definitely in pain.

Lily ran a hand across her face and through her hair. Today was the day he would likely wake up. The potion the Healers had been working on would hopefully make the pain of the curse at least bearable, but he'd be waking to a vastly different life than the one he'd led before he had set out to rescue Sirius.

At that thought, the corners of her mouth tightened, and Lily tried hard not to frown. She couldn't hold it against Sirius: it wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault except Rabastan Lestrange. He had cast the curse, and Sirius had in fact sent the Death Eater crashing into the fountain afterward, likely seriously injured. She knew Sirius felt guilty about what had happened to James, and then Remus had told her about Arlienne. She sympathized with Sirius, she did, and yet there was still that part of her that struggled not to lash out at him, simply because she needed to lash out at someone after so many days of watching and waiting. She only hoped James didn't hold it against his best friend, because that would break Sirius for sure, and she didn't want to see that happen to either one of them.

The very subject of her thoughts came in then, and when she saw his face, Lily's heart went out to him, all previous thoughts forgotten. He looked as if he had aged overnight: haggard and run down with a sad, bitter air about him. His grey eyes were dull, and he didn't smile. She wondered if he would ever laugh again, he seemed so suddenly dark. She stood to embrace him; he was still James's best friend, and she reminded herself again that it wasn't really his fault any of this had happened.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," she whispered. He let her hold onto him, but did not respond other than to close his eyes and nod.

"Where have you been?" she asked as they pulled apart. He shrugged, but did not answer. "Remus told me what happened to Arlienne. We missed you yesterday." She paused, and hoping it would jolt him into some sort of response, she continued. "I was worried."

"I'm fine," he replied. "I just had to see someone about something."

"Who?" she asked. Silence. "Sirius?"

"Regulus," he finally replied. She stepped back in surprise.

"I thought you didn't talk to him—to any of them anymore."

"I don't. I haven't really talked to Reg since we left Hogwarts," said Sirius. He was always straightforward about it; if he regretted leaving his family, he rarely acted like it bothered him "But he was there at Lestrange Hall, and I had to know if it was true—if she was really dead."

"What did he say?" she asked, fearing the worst. He sighed, a rare show of emotion.

"He seemed nervous about something, worried or even scared. But he said it was true. She ran away after the battle in Dartmoor and was found in Muggle London the next day." A hard look passed over his face. "No one saw it happen, though. They're letting people think they killed her for running away, but they didn't. They don't know what happened."

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," Lily whispered, horrified. She'd only talked with Arlienne a few times before the Slytherin girl had been sent to France, but she had always liked her, especially once it was obvious that she cared about Sirius as much as he cared about her.

"I just wish I'd been there for her," said Sirius, "or that she'd come to me for help." His voice cracked, and Lily held him once more, feeling his ragged breathing against her, though he did not weep, did not even talk until his heart had stopped racing.

"How's Prongs doing?" he finally asked.

"Rotten," croaked a voice from behind them. Lily whirled and hurried to the bed, where James had cracked open one eye and was frowning at them. "What are you doing wrapped around my wife?"

"Keeping her warm while you're lying on your arse," Sirius said. He came around the other side of the bed and sat down. "So how are you feeling?"

"I'm trying not to," James replied, squeezing his eyes shut. "What the hell happened and why is my leg on fire?"

Before Lily could answer, the door burst open and Healer Patil burst in with two others trailing behind. "I told you to call me when he woke up," he snapped.

"He just opened his eyes," Lily snapped back, her nerves stretched too thin to care about manners.

"Drink this," Patil said, helping James sit and practically forcing a potion down his throat. James's eyes went wide, and he began to choke. "All of it."

He shook his head, his eyes now watering, but at the look on the Healer's face, he swallowed, grimacing as he coughed.

"What _was_ that?" he wheezed. "Besides bloody awful?"

"It's for your leg," said the Healer, stepping back. "You should start to feel it almost immediately."

"My leg?" said James. "What happened to my leg?"

"How's the pain?" the Healer asked, ignoring the question. James frowned.

"Better than a minute ago, but that's not saying a hell of a lot," he replied. Lily reached out to squeeze his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring the Healer now poking and prodding him with his wand. When she nodded, he turned to Sirius. "And you, you dumb plank?"

Sirius grinned, but Lily could tell he was still worried and upset. "I'm fine. Just tired of waiting around for you to get up and out of that damn bed."

"Always a smart remark," murmured James. "How long have you been waiting, then?"

No one said anything, but looked at one another awkwardly. "How long?" James repeated, and Lily could hear the urgency in his voice.

"Five days," she told him. "The Healers needed time to brew the potion they gave you."

He glanced at each of them before settling back on Lily, because Sirius couldn't seem to meet his gaze. "What happened?"

Knowing he would want the truth straight off, she told him: how Gideon had set off the wards, how he'd got caught and fought off most of the household until, miraculously, the other Order members had arrived. Sirius told him about the battle and about their escape, leaving out Peter's more serious injury and the extent of his own. But Lily could see James pulling away with every sentence, until she finally gave Sirius a look that clearly told him to stop; maybe it was too much after all.

"You should rest," she told James. "I'll stay with you."

"I've been lying here for five days," he replied, eyes closed. "How much more rest do I need?"

"We need to let the potion build up in your system a bit and do its work," said Healer Patil. "You'll have to stay at least a week, maybe more."

"Fine." James didn't move, and Lily glanced at the Healer, concerned at her husband's unusually cooperative attitude. Patil gave her a reassuring look and pat on the arm before turning to leave.

"I'll check on you in an hour, James," he said. He ushered the other Healers out, then motioned at Sirius. "I'd like to look at your wound now, Mr. Black, just to be sure it's still healing properly."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Lily shook her head, and he stood to leave, a look of defeat on his face. "Take it easy, Prongs. I'll be back soon."

They left, and Lily watched her husband silently, his chest rising and falling, but not in the slow, steady pattern of restful sleep. She recognized that he was trying to calm himself, trying not to panic, break down, or fly apart. She'd only seen it once or twice, but it broke her heart every time.

"James?" she said softly. He opened his eyes, and they were red. "Are you all right—really all right?"

"I killed him, didn't I?" he said, his voice tight. "Avery. He's dead."

Lily nodded, and then tried to speak, her voice breaking slightly. "He fell, James. He hit his head. It wasn't the curse—"

"He's still dead," James interrupted. "Because I hit him."

"He hit Peter, he hit me—who knows what might have happened next." Lily paused to let it sink in. "He could've killed any one of us. You stopped that from happening. We all made it, thanks to you—especially Sirius."

James blew out his breath with a bitter laugh. "And I ended up here for five days. Brilliant."

"You're alive, aren't you? We all are. We'll get through this, James." Lily frowned. "Or are you giving up already?"

He closed his eyes again, and this time she noticed the twitch in his jaw that told her he was clenching his teeth. "It hurts," he whispered, so softly she could barely hear him. "Merlin, Lily—it _burns_." He swallowed hard. She saw a tear fall down his cheek, and she realized that the potion wasn't quite working.

"Let me call Healer Patil," she said as she stood, but he caught her hand.

"No," he rasped. "Not yet. Tell me what this means, first. What it _really_ means."

She nodded and sat with him on the bed, holding his hand. "Rabastan Lestrange hit you after Avery went down. The Healers said it's Dark magic, extremely obscure. They weren't even sure what it was, until they brought in a specialist." She paused and took a deep breath. "They put you in a magical coma because you were screaming so badly. It's called _Ignis Aeternum_."

He puzzled it out. "Eternal fire? That's why my leg feels like it's on fire?"

"Yes." Lily tried to hold back any tears and keep her voice strong. "The spell leaves little damage on the outside, but it burns from the inside. The potion is supposed to help with that, but it needs more time to build up in your system, like Patil said."

James snorted, and she smiled to see the smallest flicker of his normally resilient attitude. "I hope so. What's the counter-curse, then?"

"There is none," she said, without cushioning it; lying wouldn't make it any easier in the end. "There is no cure. Just the potion…or amputation."

"You mean, cut my leg off?" he asked, incredulous. "You're joking, right?"

"No," she said. "There is no counter-curse, nothing. The Healers said they could only mask the pain. It'll never go away: that's the nature of the spell. Eternal."

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "So will I be able to walk?"

"Yes," said Lily, because she knew he would. The Healers might not think so, but she knew her husband, and she knew he would walk. "It'll be hard, though."

"You mean, it will hurt like hell," he said. She nodded. "So I have to take this potion for the rest of my life, or the pain will drive me mad and I'll never walk again?"

She nodded once more, swallowing hard to keep from crying, because he didn't need that, not now. But just as she knew him, he knew her, and he pulled her down to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she took deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and she glanced up at him in surprise.

"For what?"

"For putting you through this." He closed his eyes as another tear slipped down his cheek. "For not telling you where I was going. For dueling Avery and getting into this mess."

"Well, don't be sorry," she said, brushing the hair from his eyes. "Just be you, all right? Be strong, be faithful. We'll get through this."

"Lily, there's nothing to get through." He pulled her close again. "You just told me this is forever."

"I know," she murmured into his chest. "But isn't that why we got married? To be together forever?"

"You married a man who was whole," James replied.

"And now I'm married to a man who was injured in the line of duty," Lily replied. "Same man, just a bum leg, maybe."

He kissed the top of her head, but she did not feel his conviction, not yet. "I'll do my best."

They sat together in silence, until James finally spoke again. "What happened to the others? You can tell me now."

"Most of us are fine, just bumps and bruises," she answered. "Peter got hit hard, though."

James nodded, as if remembering. "That's when I started dueling Avery. After he hit Pete."

Lily squeezed his hand. "He's all right now. He broke his arm when he fell, but that's been set. The curse hit him in the head, though, so he was unconscious for a few days, and he still doesn't remember anything about the battle." She paused. "He's very unsettled by it, actually."

"I can understand why," James replied. "Waking up five days later with a life-changing injury is not something I'd recommend to anyone. What about Remus? And Sirius? Something seemed wrong."

Lily sighed; she'd have to tell him, so he was prepared next time he saw his friends. "Remus is perfectly all right, unless you count how hard he's working to hold the rest of us together. Sirius, though…well, they tended his wounds, got him some food and water, and made him rest a bit."

"But?" asked James. "I hear it in there somewhere. What else happened?"

"Arlienne is dead," Lily said softly, hating the thought of it, yet alone the reality of saying it out loud.

James blew out a breath and shook his head. "Good Godric, doesn't it ever end?" he whispered. "What happened to her? Did they kill her?"

"Most likely, yes, although it's uncertain." She paused. "Sirius left when Remus told him, and he didn't come by at all yesterday. Apparently he went to see Regulus to find out the truth."

James sounded genuinely surprised. "He hasn't talked to Reg for years, though."

"I know," said Lily. "I guess he was desperate. He said Regulus was acting funny. I couldn't tell if Sirius was worried about him or not."

"He's not…you know?" asked James, miming a drink in his hand. Lily shook her head.

"No, not yet anyway. He's been smoking like a chimney ever since we got here, though. I think he feels desperately guilty, James. For everything, and now for Arlienne."

"'Course he does," James murmured, and he had closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths as if to hold back the pain. "That's Sirius." The last part barely made it out; Lily could tell he was holding back a groan.

"I'll call Patil," said Lily, and this time James didn't protest. He gritted his teeth and nodded.

Healer Patil came in and looked at James, then frowned. "It's too soon for the next dose," he murmured. Lily felt her heart fall; how could James possibly learn to live with such pain without it?

"James?" asked Patil. James opened his eyes, but they were unfocused. "I can't give you the next dose yet, but I can give you a Sleeping Draught. You may not want to sleep right now, but sleep will help get you through these first few days as the potion starts to work better."

James took a deep breath. "Can I talk to Sirius first?"

Patil nodded, and Lily went to bring Sirius back in. He looked apprehensive and worried, but James opened his eyes and grinned. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice was strained. "You're not rid of me yet."

"'Course not," said Sirius, and Lily was sure he was forcing the easy, casual tone. "We've got too much to do yet. Like end this bloody war."

James raised his eyebrows. "Well, you might have to do that for me, we'll see. Come here."

Sirius walked over to James's bedside; Lily stayed behind to let them have their moment. To her surprise, James reached out for Sirius's hand.

"It's not your fault," he said, very simply and very directly. Sirius took a deep breath before he started to reply.

"James, I—"

"None of it," James said firmly. "Nothing. Don't think otherwise. I need you to be strong." He pulled Sirius down toward him and spoke so softly into his ear that Lily could not hear what passed between them. But Sirius looked at James in surprise, then pulled back, swallowing thickly.

"You can do that yourself," he replied. "I've got your back if you need it."

"Thanks, Padfoot," James said, and he leaned back, closing his eyes once again. "Now you can watch me sleep some more or go do something useful."

Sirius gripped James on the shoulder before he left. He did not look at Lily, which she found odd; had James said something about her to him? She wanted to ask, but she also knew they had a strong bond and that she did not need to interfere. If one of them were concerned about the other, hopefully they would come to her if needed.

Healer Patil held out a Sleeping Draught for James. He drank it slowly before smiling at Lily. "I love you," he murmured. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

As James drifted off into another restless sleep, Lily sighed, because Sirius was not the only one carrying around the burden of guilt now. James was too, and she didn't know how either of them would be able to rid themselves of their burden and carry on when everything seemed so dark.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Thank you to my lovely alpha-beta Lea for all her support and encouragment! And thank you for reading—please don't just read and run! I would love to know what you think. It keeps me going strong. :)


	10. Home

Home 

It had been two weeks, and still the pain throbbed like nothing James had ever experienced. He tried not to let it show, but it was wearing him down. The potion barely held back the agonizing sensation of his entire leg burning from the inside; instead, it merely brought it down to such a level that he didn't feel the constant need to bite back another moan, another scream, another virulent curse damning his body. If his mind were engaged, he could almost push it to the back of his thoughts. Yet he had spent an inordinate amount of time in bed, with nothing to think about except the constant pain and how he would likely be crippled by it for the rest of his life.

After a few days, the potion had built up enough in his system for the Healers to allow him to try walking. But even swinging his legs over the side of the bed had been torture. He'd gritted his teeth and stepped to the cold floor, but his leg had buckled beneath him. It was as if it were numb, the fire so fierce he had little to no control over the muscles he had always taken for granted when it had come to walking.

One of the younger Healers, a pretty Irish girl not much older than Lily, had tried to teach him some sort of breathing technique, something that would help him relax and focus on the muscles that did work, not the ones screaming at him in pain. He'd tried, really he had, but it had been so hard to concentrate on anything those first days out of bed. He'd probably scared her off with his violent swearing. Lily had reprimanded him, and he'd snapped at her as well. Then Sirius had come by to have a go at him for giving Lily a hard time, as if it were James's fault this had happened, that he was having such difficulty dealing with it.

Well, it was his fault, wasn't it? He had killed Pietro Avery. He had never, ever dreamed he would fall to that level, and yet he had: he was now a murderer, and he couldn't walk because of it. Moody had come by to talk to him after a week. The grizzled Auror was no stranger to death: he'd killed before. He had been authorized by the Minister himself to use whatever force necessary to take down the increasing number of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He was used to it, though, and his words rang empty and hollow as he'd lectured James with his usual gruff voice and brusque demeanor. A life was a life, though, and James couldn't put aside the guilt he felt in taking one, even if it was an enemy he had longed to see defeated, if not dead.

It was that act that had got him cursed, making his injury his own fault in a twisted sense of justice. Rabastan Lestrange, incensed that Avery had been killed, had cast his anger and loss into one hell of a spell. James almost couldn't blame him: he remembered his own feelings when Avery had hit Lily with the Sleeping Curse their seventh year. He knew it brought out both the best and the worst in a man. He couldn't imagine what he might have done if Lily had been hurt-—really hurt—that night at Lestrange Hall; Avery probably wouldn't be the only one lying cold in the ground.

Shaking himself of the thought, that someday he could be moved to kill with intention, James bitterly reminded himself that he would be lucky if he walked again, let alone ever fought for the Order. He could barely make it across the room on his injured leg, but somehow even that small success didn't mean anything: it hurt too much to care. What was the point if he was sweating and gasping for air after twenty feet? He might as well lie in bed all day. And then what use was he to anyone, let alone Lily?

James sighed as he remembered the look on her face the last time he had snapped at her, just that morning. Instead of fighting back, as she had several times already with nerves stretched tight, she had simply turned around and left the room without another word. James still wasn't sure if he had hurt her one time too many, or if she were too furious to stay in the same room with him. It had been several hours, and he hadn't seen her since. Peter had finally come by to see him, but when he'd found James too sullen to visit properly, he'd left as well.

Only Sirius seemed to understand, the few times he had come by. He had suffered his own grievous loss and didn't seem inclined to judge James for what he was going through, except when it came to Lily. He'd insist James apologize each time, and he did. He wanted desperately to make it up to Lily, but how? She was stuck with a man who had once fought Death Eaters by her side and was now barely be able to wash and dress himself. What could she possibly see in a life like that?

Sirius had given him a pathetic look when he'd voiced that thought, once, and James had felt even more wretched, because at least he still had Lily. Sirius had lost Arlienne. James knew better than anyone what that meant: Arlienne had been the one girl Sirius had ever truly cared about, and she had risked everything to be with him.

Now one of them had died for it. James knew that Sirius felt guilty, for the injuries and Arlienne and just about everything else that had gone wrong, but he didn't know what to say. He could only watch from his bed as Sirius dealt with it in his own way. He was smoking again, though he had not taken up the Firewhiskey as he had once before. Instead of turning to liquor, he had thrown himself into Order duty with a manic frenzy, working himself toward exhaustion alongside Benjy Fenwick, who also seemed to be burying his loss with reckless vengeance and punishing over-exertion.

Remus seemed to be keeping an eye on Sirius, yet James knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong and Sirius got hurt, or worse. Sirius always needed a good kick in the arse to get him focused and back on track, and James just wished he could get up and give it to him. He'd done it once before, seventh year, brawling out on the lawn after Sirius had got pissed and set a spell on him and Lily. He wasn't sure a punch in the face was what his friend needed, though. Maybe this time Sirius just needed to get it out of his system and move forward on his own.

Remus walked in then, interrupting his thoughts. James felt a small twinge of disappointment that it wasn't Lily, which Remus seemed to pick up on immediately. He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Expecting someone else, then?" he asked.

James nodded sheepishly. "Yes, but I don't think she wants to see me right now."

"No, she doesn't," Remus admitted.

"She actually said so?" James asked. Somehow he had hoped it wasn't that bad, that Lily understood what he was going through. And yet, even then, he still had no right to yell at her; she was probably getting tired of it.

"She did." Remus nodded and began moving around the room, gathering a few of James's personal items and beginning to pack them up. "I think her exact words were 'I'd rather stitch up a drunk troll than talk to him right now.'"

"Ouch." James sighed. "I deserve it."

"You do." Remus stopped and looked at him with both a sympathetic expression yet a challenging one. "But you're going to have to get over it sooner or later. You're going home today, and Lily has every intention of being there for you, you know."

"She does? Even after this morning?" Remus nodded and James continued. "Then how come you're here? No offense."

"None taken," Remus laughed. "I'm here because I'm the only one who's not busy at the moment."

James was surprised. "What's she doing?"

"She's with Benjy. He and Sirius got themselves tossed about a bit outside Hogsmeade." He threw some clothes on the bed. "Deep cut on the arm. She's fixing him up and giving Sirius an earful for being reckless again."

"I bet she is," James murmured. He sat up, biting back a grunt as his leg flared. While he was bored to tears from sitting around, the pain was always worse when he moved it. The potion barely took the edge off, and he found himself constantly wanting more—something, anything—to make it go away.

"Is he all right?" James asked, pulling on the shirt Remus had thrown at him. "Padfoot?"

"He's fine. Grinning ear to ear, actually." Remus helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed, and this time James couldn't help it: he gasped. "Still bad?" Remus said softly, and James hated the look of pity in his friend's eyes. He was supposed to be strong, not crippled.

"Have you taken your potion?" James nodded, standing on his good leg and letting Remus help him into some trousers. "Are you up to the strongest dose possible?"

"That's what Patil said," James replied through clenched teeth. He zipped his trousers and sat down, breathing deeply to stop the spasm of pain. "Sometimes I just want to hex the damn thing off."

"Check with Lily first," Remus murmured with a wink.

"Check with me about what?" she said, coming through the door. Remus turned quickly, then backed away, shaking his head as if he didn't want to get involved.

"Nothing," James grumbled. He saw Lily's mouth tighten and knew he needed to be honest with her, given that she was already upset with him. "We were just talking about my leg."

"The potion is not working very well," Remus murmured. James gave him a grateful look, because he hated admitting it himself. Lily's face softened, and she took his hand.

"It's the best we can do," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," James replied. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm sorry you had to send Remus in to help me, I'm sorry I—"

She put a finger to his lips, and he kissed it, and Remus coughed behind her.

"That's my cue to leave," he said with a wink. "See you at home, Prongs. I'll come by later—maybe even bring Sirius along."

"How is he?" James asked Lily as Remus left the room. She sighed and shook her head.

"Stupid. Reckless. You know—he's Sirius, just more than usual."

"He'll get over it." James wasn't sure, exactly, but he had to hope so, anyway. He felt helpless at the moment.

"He needs you," Lily said.

"He's avoiding me, I think. He only seems to come by to chastise me for snapping at you."

She laughed. "Always watching out for my honor, your Padfoot. It would probably be good for him to talk about it, though—for both of you."

James just nodded. What was there to talk about, really? It was all he could do now, all he had done for two weeks: talk. He wanted to get up and get out there again. He had been sick of the war before he'd gone down to Dartmoor; now it seemed the one thing he missed, after being stuck in St. Mungo's for so long. He hated that he felt that way, even after he had killed a man; he only hoped going home would bring him back to the reality of life with Lily, a life he had once hoped to live free of fighting.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly, taking his hand and helping him stand.

He took another deep breath. "Yes, I'm ready. Let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

The first day had gone about as expected: James had simply been glad to be home and had relaxed for the first time in weeks. He had even enjoyed the steady stream of visitors, although the ridiculous number of plants they had brought with them had become a bit tedious by the end of the day. Still, he had managed the pain in his leg well enough and had gone to bed exhausted.

The second day had been much quieter. He had spent most of it with Lily, alternating between quiet bliss, deadly boredom, and irrational annoyance when he couldn't make it from one room to another. A Healer had come by to help him with his leg, and he had exercised his less desirable vocabulary profusely; he was certain they'd send someone else the next day, and idly wondered how many he could scare off before they just stopped coming and let him get on with things on his own.

The third day saw him growing more impatient and tetchy. He was fairly certain Lily was relieved to get away when she headed to St. Mungo's in the late afternoon. To his surprise, Sirius came by with dinner to keep him company, which consisted mostly of take away from a local Muggle restaurant and a bottle of something new.

"It's called Glacial Gin," Sirius said with a shrug and a grin. "Apparently it's quite the rage up in Hogsemeade right now. Had a few with Benjy last week after we ran into some Death Eaters outside the village."

James tried to ignore the tug in his gut, that Sirius was not only out working for the Order, but out drinking with Benjy. He wasn't jealous, exactly, but rather bothered by the thought that he might never do those things again. How would he ever get himself to a pub and back? He wasn't sure he'd ever Apparate again, because the Healers had told him not to try for fear of Splinching himself. And Merlin only knew if he'd ever run a mission with the Order. Limp, maybe…

Shaking himself of maudlin thoughts, James hobbled around the kitchen and gathered some cups and plates. Sirius offered to help, but James barked at him that he could do it himself, thank you very much. Which wasn't entirely true, because he almost dropped the glasses when his leg twitched beneath him. Too late he remembered his wand, but the idea of using magic to do every little thing he had once done on his own bothered him. He wasn't lazy, he just had a bad leg that hurt like hell.

As they ate, they talked about the Order, about Remus, about Peter, until they soon lapsed into an unusual silence. James finished his gin, a pleasant chill spreading throughout his body. It was a nice contrast to their usual Firewhiskey, as well as the painful heat in his leg. It didn't take it away, exactly, but it was a welcome distraction. He poured himself another.

"Look, I know you still feel guilty about…all this," James said, waving his glass around in a circle. "But don't. Just stop it. I don't want things to be like this forever."

Sirius helped himself to another eggroll and was silent. James almost doubted he would reply, but to his surprise, Sirius did. "It's not just you, Prongs. It's everthing. Pete. Arlienne. Even the Fenwicks. Fabian is still cut up over losing them, and Benjy is in even worse shape. Part of that was my fault too."

James frowned. "It's war. Guilt and regret won't to win it for us, you know."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor." Sirius snorted. "And a real Potter. Your dad would be proud."

"I doubt it," James murmured. He dad would likely be appalled at some of the more hopeless thoughts he'd had over the past three weeks, or at the way he'd been snapping at Lily. He could talk big, but inside, he was terrified of what his life would look like in a month, or six. And he felt his own guilt, as well-every time he thought about Lily's life with a disabled husband.

"I'm serious," said Sirius, eliciting a laugh from James. "No, really. You've every right to be bitter and angry, but aside from a few bits of snappishness, I think you're holding up brilliantly. Better than the rest of us, that's for damn sure."

James pondered the meaning of that. Remus had told him Peter was struggling. He still hadn't recovered his memories of the battle, and rather than shrug it off, he had refused to talk about it at all. It had unnerved him too much, and he hadn't been to an Order meeting since leaving St. Mungo's. He'd only been to see James once, and that had been horribly awkward. James sighed, because he certainly understood where Peter was coming from with his feelings.

Taking a hard look at his friend, James noticed that Sirius looked thinner, and there was a faint bruise on his jaw, as if he'd been in a fight, likely on that Order mission. There were bags under his eyes and his grey eyes looked dull instead of bright and full of life. Yes, Sirius was still suffering, as well.

"Sirius," James finally started. "It's not your fault. It happened. It's over. You've got to stop beating yourself up over it—all of it."

Sirius looked him in the eye. "I know you'll be fine," he said. "You're strong. And Pete—well, he'll get over it too, even if it takes longer. Benjy too. But James…Arlienne is dead because of me. That is my fault. And I don't know if I can get over that. I don't know if I should."

He knocked back another glass of gin; James joined him, reveling in the cool, calm feeling it sent through his body. He shivered and poured them each another. If they were going to have a heart-to-heart, they might as well get drunk doing it.

They talked long into the night, finishing the bottle of gin easily. If they didn't solve either of their problems, at least they toasted them a dozen times with the cool, blue liquor. As the night wore on, James found himself almost forgetting about the burning pain in his leg; the gin seemed to work better than the potion did. Or maybe it just dulled his mind enough to simply stop noticing that he was still cursed, still crippled.

He tried to stand when Sirius finally got up to leave, but he barely stumbled into the living room and fell back to the sofa with a bitter curse, but also a hysterical laugh. Even bloody drunk and numb he couldn't walk properly. At least he wasn't on fire; he would have to get more gin, for those days when the potion didn't work well enough. He had always been able to hold his liquor fairly well, so it wasn't like he'd be drunk every night.

As Sirius tumbled into the fireplace to Floo home, James ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that was telling him not to go down that road; a little extra help couldn't hurt as he learned to deal with a very different life, since Merlin only knew what that life would be like now.

* * *

**End Notes:**

Not much to say here, really, other than updates will start to slow down a bit as I catch up with what I've written previously and continue the story with new material. And that yes, it's all quite a downer. That's the story. That's the war.

Thank you for your thoughts and reviews, they keep me going!


	11. Closure

Closure

The next bolt of light just barely missed him, but Sirius laughed as he ducked and sent an Impedimenta Curse flying back. Next to him, Fabian Prewett flourished his wand and took out his opponent, stepping back with a satisfied nod. Benjy Fenwick grunted as he took a shot to the knee, but put down his own Death Eater with a quick Stunning Spell.

"Come on, Black, stop playing with him," Fabian called as he retreated. "We need to get out of here."

Sirius pretended to sigh melodramatically, then fired three quick curses, one right after the other, in succession at the masked man he had been fighting. They had been trying to gather information for something Dumbledore had started to hear whispers about-some sort of plan, something big. With one of their best sources of underground information still recovering from his injuries, Dumbledore had been sending out other Order members on secret missions, hoping to gather enough information to try and stop whatever Voldemort was planning next. Sirius, Benjy, and Fabian had been sent down south, but unfortunately, they had not learned much before they were caught in the act and forced to fight their way out.

While Sirius was slightly annoyed at Peter for not doing the job he had once done so well, he was also glad to have something to do. Ever since the battle at Lestrange Hall, he had jumped at every mission he could in order to get out there, to fight. He needed to make up for the damage he had caused in Dartmoor, and he needed to get his mind off the terrible consequences. Bad enough he had taken up the cigarettes his friends hated so much; too many times he had found himself staring at an empty glass of whiskey or gin at some pub, and fighting was usually better than vomiting in the street.

The man he had been spying on and then dueling fell to the ground with an inelegant thud. His mask slipped from his head ever so slightly, and Sirius though he recognized the dark, lank hair of Severus Snape, former Slytherin rival. He snorted, idly wishing James had been there to see Snape fall, given their long and fierce enmity at school. Then he remembered Lily had once been friends with the Death Eater, and he reminded himself not to gloat on it with James, in case it upset her.

He hurried after Fabian and Benjy. "I was just getting started," he murmured as they left the scene and Apparated back to Hogsmeade. They reappeared on the outskirts of the small village and made their way to the Hog's Head, Fabian and Benjy laughing amicably as they walked. As they entered the pub, Sirius sighed for real this time: he missed his best friend.

James should be there, taking out the likes of Severus Snape next to him. Fabian and Benjy were both good men, and they were equally as determined as Sirius to erase the memory of Dartmoor by throwing themselves into their work. Yet it wasn't the same; after almost a month of missions with one or both them, Sirius was starting to feel like they were succeeding where he was failing. They seemed genuinely energized by each small victory, whereas he felt more and more empty with each passing day.

They moved toward a table in the back, motioning to Aberforth for drinks. But Sirius decided to skip the Firewhiskey that night and excused himself. They could fill Aberforth in on what little information they had gathered. Sirius did not feel like being in the pub, not then.

He thought about going to see Peter, but he knew from what Remus had told him that Peter was not ready to come back and join them. In some ways, he was struggling just as much, if not more, than James. Losing his memory had scared him more than anything he'd experienced, and he'd retreated from both the Order and his friends. Sirius knew he wasn't in any state to pull Peter back; there were still times when he wanted to Apparate away from it all himself.

He thought about taking another bottle of Glacial Gin over to James's house, but Lily had told him James had got his own bottle through owl post and had taken to having a glass just about every night. If she blamed him for introducing it to her husband, she hadn't said so, but Sirius had sensed her concern. Still, it was likely just the novelty of something new, something that provided a calming contrast to the burning pain of his leg. James would be all right, but Sirius didn't feel like drinking with him, not that night.

He thought about going to Remus's house, but he'd just been there that morning, to check on his friend after the full moon. Remus had been tired, as usual, but also distracted. Apparently Dumbledore had given him some sort of assignment, and for whatever reason he did not seem to be looking forward to it. Sirius hadn't wanted to pry, but it was clear that whatever it was, it was already weighing heavily on his friend. Remus needed to rest before he set out, not a morose friend moping on his shoulder.

When it came down to it, Sirius just wanted to be alone. It was rare, but it happened. Maybe he was tired from the brief skirmish, maybe he was hungry. Or maybe it was all catching up to him, the manic month of duel after duel, mission after mission. He had hardly stopped to recover from his injuries, let alone grieve for his loss. It suddenly hit him that maybe that was what he needed: closure.

He decided to walk through the village, get some fresh air, clear his head. He made his way down the narrow street, newly dusted with snow, and tried not to dwell on the past or the future. He just let the cool air and clear night surround him, fill him. Yet when he got to the end of the road, he still felt empty.

"You're not heading up to the Shrieking Shack, are you?" said a voice behind him. He whirled, nerves stretched so tight that for some reason he was expecting a Death Eater, even in the middle of Hogsmeade. Instead, he found himself face to face with a woman almost the same height as him. She had dark hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. "I've heard it's haunted."

He narrowed his eyes at her, curious and yet at the same time wanting to be left alone. "No, not anymore."

"Just the wind, then?" she asked casually, following his gaze toward the dilapidated old house that had quickly built its reputation, all thanks to Remus's terrible transformations in school. Once he had learned the truth, Sirius had sometimes wished the Shrieking Shack were actually haunted by ghosts, instead of by a werewolf struggling through the full moon. It had practically driven them mad, listening to Remus howl in pain every month once they had figured it out.

"It's been quiet for a while, actually," Sirius told her.

"Has it?" she murmured. She was eyeing him strangely.

"Do I know you?" he asked. "Are you from around here?"

A mysterious smile, somehow familiar, floated across her face. "No, I don't think so. And no, I'm not from around here."

"You're not from abroad," he pointed out, since her voice and diction had a slightly aristocratic but definitely English lilt. "I don't remember you from Hogwarts, though, and you can't have been out much longer than me."

Her laugh was light and almost sent a shiver down his back. "No, I'm English. I've just been living in Europe for a while." She paused. "Quite a while. Things are bad here, now."

Sirius nodded. "That they are."

There was an awkward moment of silence between them. "Would you like to get something to eat?" she finally asked. "I didn't follow you up here for a walk in the snow."

Sirius gaped at her: he had rarely met a girl as forward and confident as this woman who had mysteriously appeared behind him. There was something both refreshing and yet discomfiting about it. He was used to being the one in control, and yet this woman had so very quickly established herself and her interest that he felt like he was floundering a bit. Which was uncomfortable, given how unsettled the rest of his life was.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded. "Do I have icicles in my ears or something?"

"No," Sirius laughed, hoping he didn't sound nervous. "You just startled me. And you remind me of someone." She reminded him of Arlienne, from the way she was gazing at him with eyebrows raised, to her boldness, and even her laugh.

"Is that a good thing?" she asked.

"I don't know," he murmured. "At least not yet."

"Hm." She cocked her head, and it was so like Arlienne he felt his breath catch. "That sounds hopeful. Does that mean you'd like to get something to eat? You sort of look like you could use it."

He glanced down at himself. It was dark, but he did look somewhat rumpled and could imagine his face a bit smudged from the brief skirmish. And he'd lost weight, weight he hadn't gained back since Dartmoor because he'd been too busy smoking or working. He probably could use something to eat, and maybe more.

"I suppose I do," he replied with a nod. "Just not Madam Puddifoot's."

"Of course not," she murmured. "That doesn't strike me as your sort of place. The Three Broomsticks, then?"

"You know me already," Sirius said with a rueful laugh. "Now how about telling me your name?"

"I'm Emmeline," she said, and she gave him such a warm smile that it made his heart jump in his chest. He barely heard her surname, he was too busy wondering how she could look at him like that when they'd only just met. And how could he respond to her so strongly when he'd just lost someone he cared about deeply?

"You're doing it again," she murmured. "Staring."

"Sorry, you're just so much like her," he said, shaking his head. They headed back into the village toward the Three Broomsticks.

"Like who, if you don't mind me asking?" Emmeline asked.

"Like someone I used to know," Sirius replied. He may be having an unusual reaction to this strange, beautiful woman, but he couldn't bear his soul to someone he'd just met.

"Someone you've lost, I gather?" She shrugged when he gave her an amazed look. "It seems obvious from the way you're talking about her and looking at me. Was she your girlfriend?"

"How do you know it wasn't my mum?" he countered, opening the door for her as they entered The Three Broomsticks.

"You don't-" She stopped and rolled her eyes at whatever she had been about to say. "You don't strike me as someone who'd talk about his mother that way."

"Right again," he murmured. He pulled out a chair at a table in the back for her, and she smiled gratefully at him. Sitting across from her, he gave her a piercing look. "Are you sure we haven't met? You haven't even asked me my name, yet you're sitting here with me in a pub having dinner."

She blushed. "I heard someone mention it back at the Hog's Head."

"You were there?"

"I'm staying in town," she said, looking away as if embarrassed. "Aberforth is helping me out while I get settled."

"I didn't realize he helped people," Sirius murmured.

"He's asked me to clean up a bit in return, but the place is so grimy I don't think it makes a lick of difference," she laughed.

"How long have you been there?" Sirius asked.

"Just a few weeks," Emmeline replied.

"I haven't see you around," Sirius pointed out. Then again, he'd only been to the Hogs Head a handful of times since Dartmoor, and probably too distracted to notice anyone, even if she was a pretty tenant.

"You haven't been around much," she tossed back. "From what I've heard, you've been busy."

"Following my every move, are you?" Sirius asked. He was suddenly leery: she could be a spy, sent to lure him in with trust and pull out more information than he was willing to share. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Of course not," she murmured. "I'm just a good listener."

"And people talk about me that much?" He was skeptical and let it show on his face, but before she could answer, Rosmerta came over to their table.

"Of course we do, Black," she said with a wink. "You've always been a popular topic around here."

Sirius snorted and tossed back an equally biting comment. Emmeline watched them curiously, the smallest hint of a frown on her face. After Rosmerta had left, she sipped at a Gillywater, but seemed a bit more distant.

"What's the matter?" Sirius asked, going straight to the point. "Have I said something wrong already?"

She shook her head. "I didn't realize how close you were with her."

"You didn't realize…" Sirius trailed off. "I'm not. She's like that with just about every bloke that comes in here."

"She's pretty," Emmeline murmured.

"She's twelve years older than me!" Sirius laughed and took a pull at his own drink, a more conservative stout. He wasn't in the mood for anything stiffer and wanted his wits about him when it came to this mysterious stranger who had practically accosted him.

Emmeline smiled. "If you say so." They were quiet for a moment. "Look, I'm not digging for information, but what happened? You're a bit mussed up, now that I can see you in the light."

Either she was really good at disarming his natural distrust, or she was sincere. Sirius decided he could give a little. If she were a spy, perhaps he could turn the tables and find out something about her, something useful for the Order. Yet he didn't think she was: his instincts trusted her, but he couldn't afford to make a mistake, not after so many other mistakes.

So he told her a bit about his fight with the Death Eaters, leaving out anything about his mission and the real reason he had been there. She only nodded and sipped at her Gillywater. She did not seem surprised or worried. Their food soon arrived, and they ate in silence, until she asked him another question.

"Tell me about the Order."

He practically spit out his food. It was the last thing he would have expected, such a direct and obvious question. If she was trying to work him for information, she wasn't being very discreet about it anymore. Which meant that maybe she wasn't…or maybe she was hoping he would think she was too obvious to be a spy and trust her. It was very confusing.

He put down his knife and fork. "Look, we've just met. I'm not sure what you were expecting, because I'm not so thick to tell you everything about myself over dinner."

She didn't seem at all perturbed by his attitude. "I'm sorry. I should've known you wouldn't just tell me your life story on our first date."

"Date?" he asked, once more thrown off. "Is that what it is?"

She merely smiled in response, and in spite of her warm familiarity and how much he was attracted to her, he finished his food quickly and in silence. Someone felt wrong, like he was supposed to know something but couldn't remember. Finally he stood and nodded down at her as he took out several Galleons for the bill.

"Look, I enjoyed dinner, but I'm not sure what you were expecting from me, so I should get going."

She did not rise, but nodded sadly. "I understand. I do, really."

"Understand what?" he asked. "Are you a Legilimens or something? Because you seem to know me far better than I know you."

She finished her drink without answering, then stood and gazed deep into his eyes. And he felt his breath catch, because Merlin she was beautiful and so much like _her._ He shook his head of it and apologized once more before turning to leave.

"Sirius, wait!" Emmeline reached out for his hand, and Sirius felt a small shock travel up his arm at the contact. "I'm sorry if I put you off. I didn't mean to. It's…challenging, getting used to being back. It's almost like starting a new life."

She emphasized the last, but he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. She kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave before him, and he stared after her, wondering if he would see her again-if he wanted to see her again. A part of him did, and yet another part of him screamed his betrayal if he so much as thought about her lips, or her laugh, or the way her blue eyes had gazed into his.

"I think she likes you," said a voice near his ear. Rosmerta was standing beside him, giving him an amused look.

"I can't imagine why," Sirius murmured, still staring at the door. "She hardly knows me."

"She obviously wants to," Rosmerta pointed out as she cleared the table with her wand. "And she seemed like a decent sort of lass."

Sirius turned around and gave her an exasperated look. "Thanks for your approval."

"You're welcome. You need to stop sulking and get back out there, you know."

"I am out there," Sirius replied. "Took out several tonight."

"I don't mean Death Eaters, Sirius," she said, standing straight with a wink. Sirius grinned.

"She thought we were an item."

Rosmerta burst out laughing, and Sirius frowned as she patted him on the cheek. "Sorry, I don't mean it like that. Only I'm a bit old for you, aren't I?"

He kissed her on the cheek. "But you're still beautiful, you know. Too bad she wasn't right."

Rosmerta batted him on the arm as she headed back toward the bar. "You're a shameless tease, Sirius Black. Now, are you going to go after her or not?"

"Why?" asked Sirius. He was enjoying the easy banter; it was refreshing after the adrenaline rush of the mission and the oddly enchanting encounter with Emmeline.

"You don't even know her full name, do you?" asked Rosmerta, hands on her hips. "Or where she's from, where she lives-"

"She's staying at the Hog's Head," Sirius said, a victorious grin on his face. "And her name is Emmeline. Emmeline Vance."

* * *

End notes:

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think. I did say it would be dark, but there is hope, I think. Someone of you have started to figure things out, but I can't give away spoilers, you know! ;) I'm hoping for weekly or bi-weekly updates now that I've caught up to everything I wrote a year ago. Thanks again!


End file.
